


The Eye of the Storm

by JamieJam93



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Alternate Universe, But there's a happy ending I promise haha, Domestic violence (all forms), Drug Abuse, Eating Disorders, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Just a bunch of mental health issues, M/M, Mentioned suicide attempts, Mentions of Prostitution, Mentions of past child abuse (all forms), Schizophrenia, mentioned self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:32:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 135,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieJam93/pseuds/JamieJam93
Summary: Louis loves Harry while Harry loves everything and everyone else, at least until he finds out what real love is.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First off, if you're choosing to read this even after those tags, you are a brave soul XD
> 
> Secondly, I tried to come up with a better summary and I just couldn't. I am awful at them. 
> 
> Thirdly, you can skip over this if you'd like, but I want to add a little bit of what this story is about.
> 
> So, obviously, at times, this is going to be a very dark fic. I won't go super detailed into the super dark stuff, but there will be enough said that I wanted to warn you in the tags. Anyway, I usually draw inspiration from certain people or events that happen in real life for my stories, but this is different because this is directly based off my (foster) brother and his fiance. After being told that he and his fiance needed to write a story based off their relationship, my brother told me that I should do it since I'm the 'writer' of the family. I joked that I could write a One Direction-based fic off of them, since that's all of the writing experience I have. Since this is the brother that introduced me to One Direction in the first place, he thought that was a great idea, so...here it is XD I have his fiance's permission to write this as well and, in fact, he wrote a lot of this first chapter! So, while certain parts might be hard to read (and I'm sure they'll be hard to write as well,) I'm really excited to work with them on something that has such a great ending despite so many obstacles and I hope it's enjoyable for people to read too! 
> 
> Harry's character is based off of my brother (Tristen) and Louis's character is based off his fiance (Zach.) As always, comments are welcomed and lovely, but please try to be nice. I can almost guarantee there are moments where you will hate Harry/Tristen, but remember; happy ending! (If you absolutely have to leave a comment expressing your hate towards him though, go for it. He's my brother and I love him, but sometimes he's an idiot. Zach, however, is a precious bean and deserves all the love, so if you leave him love at any point, I'll make sure he gets it.) ;)
> 
> Anyway, I'm sure there was more I meant to say, but I doubt most people are still reading this, so I hope you enjoy! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but Tris and Zach are pumped and ready to start chapter two, so it should be soon!
> 
> P.S. The title of the fic is from the song 'I'll Follow You' by Shinedown, which is Tristen and Zach's wedding song :)

            “Why did you do it?”

             Though the question seemed to come from nowhere, Louis didn’t need to ask Harry what he was talking about. Instinctively, he traced his finger along the long, vertical scar that went from his left wrist to nearly down to his elbow and sighed.

            “You don’t have to tell me,” Harry said, gently taking Louis’s wrist in his hand and running his own finger across part of the scar. It wasn’t even really a scar yet, Louis reminded himself. The wound was fairly fresh; the stiches not even out yet. He sighed again and took Harry’s wrist instead, tracing the man’s own older (though not much older), horizontal scars.

            “Why do _you_ do it?” Louis returned softly. Harry only missed a beat before saying,

            “Physical pain helps me forget about the emotional pain.”

            “Exactly,” Louis agreed, “except that’s stopped working for me. I wanted the pain to end; all of it. Forever.”

            “Are you mad at me for saving your life?”

            Harry looked truly worried about what the answer would be. The two were laying on the floor of Harry’s sister’s living room; the TV on, but the volume low. They were on their sides, looking into each other’s eyes, and Louis was amazed that he could even think straight enough to answer the questions because Harry was beautiful.

            “No,” he told him after considering the question for a moment. There had been a few fleeting seconds when he first awoke in the hospital and discovered that Harry had found him unconscious and bleeding out in the bathroom, and took it upon himself to call an ambulance, that Louis had been mad, and he grew even angrier when he found out that he would have been dead, had Harry not donated him blood right when he did, but there was no way he could ever be mad at Harry for long. That was the curse of being in love, he supposed.

            Harry had already left by the time Louis woke up in the hospital, and after getting over his bout of anger, Louis knew he should call him and thank him for saving his life, but instead, he stared at the gauze on his arm, dotted with blood, and wondered if it was Harry’s or his own.

            Louis had to spend three days in the mental ward due to his attempt at ending his own life, but after an expert diagnosis of depression (duh, Louis had said out loud), he was released with a prescription of antidepressants and a promise that he no longer felt like a danger to himself.

            As soon as he was released, he’d gone to see Harry, who wrapped him in a hug as soon as he saw him and, just for a moment, Louis was glad that his attempt had failed.

            “Good,” Harry said; apparently glad that Louis wasn’t mad at him. “Don’t do that again, little one.”

            “Yeah, yeah,” Louis said, rising to his feet and smoothing out his pants. Harry did the same.

            “Let’s go out,” Louis said then. Harry raised an eyebrow.

            “You want to go out?”

            “Yeah,” he said. “I can’t stand the silence anymore. Let’s go to a club.”

            “Okay…,” Harry said, sounding like he thought Louis was crazy, but he guessed that he kind of was.

            “But first, would Gemma mind if I showered here?”

            It had been forever since Louis had showered where there was soft water. He’d been living in a hotel for two weeks prior to his hospitalization, and he almost moaned when the warm, gentle water hit his skin. Luckily, he refrained from doing so, as Harry would get a very wrong idea of what was going on in the shower if he had, but Louis did have to remind himself that this wasn’t his home and he should probably hurry it up.

 

            Louis fully expected to lose Harry at the club. As the guy who had just tried to kill himself, Louis wasn’t known for great things at the moment, but Harry had a reputation of his own.

            At twenty-one, the same age as Louis, Harry had already been addicted to drugs, alcohol and sex for a good number of years. How his blood had been clean enough to donate to Louis was either a mystery or a miracle, depending on the optimism of the person asked. He was wild, and admitted even a little bit crazy, but Louis thought that he was more hurt than anything else. After being abused and then abandoned by his birth parents, Harry had gone through the system, which failed him and left him looking for love in everyone and everything. The problem was, Harry didn’t know what it felt like to be loved and he always ended up doing the wrong things and with the wrong people.

            Harry’s life had started to look up about a year ago when he met a guy who finally seemed to be the one. He helped Harry get off the drugs, and the two were engaged, but after a relapse with his cutting problem as well as the eating disorder that had plagued Harry since his early teen years, his fiancé decided that he was ‘too far gone’ for him to help anymore, and ‘since he clearly wanted to be dead,’ the man nearly ended Harry’s life for him when he choked him out. Luckily, Harry survived, but with permanent damage to his vocal cords, the singing career that was just on his horizon was ended.

            Since then, Harry had given up on relationships and had taken to sleeping with people for money instead.

            Harry didn’t leave Louis’s side that night, though; not for business or pleasure at least, and every time their eyes locked, Louis’s heart fluttered, just like it had been doing at the house Harry currently shared with his biological sister.

            “Do you want one?” Harry said into Louis’s ear, his breath giving the smaller man goose bumps. Looking down, Louis saw that Harry had two little tablets in his hand and, though Louis wasn’t a drug addict, he’d dabbled enough to know that it was Ecstasy.

            Louis nodded, because why not? Saying no wouldn’t stop Harry from doing it, and the reason for going out was to get Louis out of his own mind. Those little pills would certainly do the trick.

            Harry brushed his fingers along Louis’s bottom lip before pushing the pill against them. Louis opened his mouth just wide enough to allow Harry to put the pill in, and Harry helped him wash it down by allowing him a drink of his own liquor. With the loud music playing, the bright lights flashing, and the way his temperature rose when Harry smirked at him, Louis kind of felt like he was on Ecstasy before the pill had even slid down his throat.

            After Louis had swallowed down the tablet, Harry took his own. His eyes rolled back in his head as he swallowed, a look of pure relief crossing his face, and then he looked back to Louis and smiled. Louis returned it, and then accepted Harry’s hand as he requested to take him to the dance floor.

            For no one besides Harry Styles would Louis dance. He couldn’t dance, and he didn’t like to try, but Harry didn’t mind that his moves were far from elegant or sexy. He pulled his body closer anyway, looking in his eyes with a lust that was almost hungry. Louis knew it was only from the drug, but he pretended otherwise.

            “You’re so pretty,” Harry said in his ear after they’d been dancing for a while. Louis wasn’t positive how long it had been, but both of them were sweating profusely and Louis’s legs were nearly jelly. “It’s no wonder you’re sad.”

            That didn’t make sense, as Louis didn’t think physical attractiveness really had anything to do with happiness, but he wasn’t going to question Harry’s logic when he said that he thought he was pretty.

            In the next instant, Harry had both of Louis's wrists in his hands, walking backwards with a smirk as he led him to the nearest bathroom.

            Getting undressed was a difficult process, and Louis knew he and Harry were both going to have multiple bruises on them from how many times they’d hit body parts on the toilet and walls of the stall, but he didn’t care. Finally, both of their shirts were off, and Harry had Louis’s trousers unzipped as he sat forwards on Louis’s lap. Louis, in turn, was sitting on the toilet, and he knew how disgusting what they were actually about to do was, but, again, he didn’t care. He’d been wanting this moment with Harry for two years, so if it had to happen in the dirty stall of a nightclub bathroom, so be it.

            “Louis,” Harry breathed against his neck, licking the wound he’d just sucked into the skin.

            “Harry,” Louis said, trying to sound sexy, as Harry had, but not succeeding at all. He hoped that wasn’t the reason that Harry chose to pull away.

            “You’re married,” he said, his bloodshot eyes holding sadness and regret.

            “I’m getting divorced,” Louis reminded him.

            “That’s so sad,” Harry said.

            “It’s for the best.”

            “You two love each other so much.”

            Louis remained silent. He wasn’t about to get into how false Harry’s statement was, afraid of what else the topic would bring up, and he slid his hands up Harry’s shirt, massaging his fingers into Harry’s hot torso.

            “I’m getting divorced,” he said again, moving his hips a little in the hopes that it would make Harry continue grinding onto him. It didn’t. Harry stood up.

            “You should work things out,” he told Louis, finding his own shirt on the floor and slipping it on. Louis wanted to cry but, luckily, he didn’t.

            “That’s not going to happen,” he said.

            “This isn’t the first time you’ve broken up and gotten back together,” Harry pointed out.

            “But it’s the last time,” Louis said, and he meant it. He might not be a great person, but he deserved more than who he was with, and he was only finally starting to realize that.

            “I can’t, Louis,” Harry sighed. “You’re married, and marriage is beautiful. True love is beautiful, and so, so rare. Don’t let it go easily.”

            With that, Harry left the stall. Louis stood from the toilet and dressed as quickly as he could, but by the time he got back to the dance floor, Harry was gone. He wasn’t at the bar either, nor was he in the other bathroom, so after cursing to himself, Louis called a cab to take him on a lonely, miserable ride back to the nearest hotel.  
           

           


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a tag. Nothing big, but just in case you want to see it :) 
> 
> Anything in Italics is a flashback. 
> 
> As an extra warning, I know in my tags that I said *all* forms of abuse/domestic violence will be mentioned, and that includes sexual. I will NEVER get super detailed about any of that, but it is mentioned.

            “Gentlemen, get up! Rise and shine! It’s time to start this lovely new day!”

            Louis’s roommate, some guy in his mid-thirties named Sam, groaned, and if Louis’s eyes had been opened, he would have rolled them. He didn’t know which would be worst; if Catherine, the nurse who was currently trying to rouse them, was genuinely as bubbly as her words would suggest, or if she was being sarcastic, as Louis thought she was. He liked Catherine well enough, he supposed, but there was something unfriendly about her smile and insincere about her words. Not that he had to worry about that for much longer, as he was getting out of the mental institution today, which Catherine was quick to remind him.

            “Come on, Louis!” she encouraged. “It’s an especially great day for you! You get to go home!”

            Louis didn’t correct her by telling her that he had no home; he would be staying with his sister and her fiancé for the time being. He simply groaned as well. Catherine sighed.

            “If you two aren’t out of bed by the time I come back in five minutes, there will be consequences.”

            “But I’m leaving today,” Louis reminded her, opening his eyes and squinting against the harsh light. Catherine smiled the most genuine smile that he thought he’d ever seen from her.

            “That’s my boy,” she said, and turned on her heel to go rouse others.

            “Aren’t you a lucky one?” Sam muttered beneath his breath. He had said maybe thirty words to Louis in the whole two months they’d been rooming together, including the five he’d just spoken. Louis didn’t even know what the guy was in for, but if he had to guess, it would be some kind of personality disorder mixed with alcoholism.

            “Not really,” Louis said. “If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have been in here in the first place.”

            “They kissed your arse while you were in here, kid,” Sam grumbled, opening his eyes to glare at Louis, who shrugged and got out of bed.

            “I’m sorry you feel that way, Sam,” he said as he put some socks on his feet. The way he saw it, nobody had ‘kissed his arse,’ but simply grew tired of trying to figure out what was wrong with him and why no amount of antidepressants could make him feel okay, so the doctor had prescribed him mood stabilizers instead, and he wasn’t too concerned when they made Louis so tired that he sometimes slept through breakfast, and occasionally even morning activities and lunch. At least when he was sleeping he wasn’t sad, or at least that seemed to be their motto.

            When Louis entered the cafeteria, he scanned the room until he found the face he was looking for, sitting at a table in the corner and looking around at everyone, appearing frightened. Making sure to put a smile on his face, Louis walked over to the man-the one friend he had made in therapy-and plopped down next to him.

            “Hey, you made it!” the guy exclaimed, smiling and seeming to forget that he was afraid.

            “I can’t miss my last breakfast with you, can I, Zayn?” Louis teased, and the other patient frowned.

            “That makes me sad,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you, but it’s shit that I’m never going to see you again after today.”

            “Who says?” Louis asked rhetorically. “I gave you my sister’s number, and I’m planning on calling you as soon as I get a phone of my own. As soon as you’re out of here, I’m taking you out to celebrate.”

            “Isabelle says we’ll be out soon,” Zayn told Louis, who decided not to mention that if the voice in Zayn’s head was telling him that he would be released soon, then it was probably not true.

            “I hope you are,” Louis told him, “but the most important thing is getting better.”

            “I’m fine now,” Zayn said, seeming to believe it. “Isabelle doesn’t tell me I’m worthless anymore, and the other people have quieted down a lot!”

            “That’s good!” Louis told him genuinely, patting him on the back. Clearly, Zayn still had a lot of work to do, but given that there had been a total of twelve voices in his head which all constantly told him how awful of a person he was when he first arrived, he had made a lot of progress.

            Zayn smiled at Louis, looking proud of himself, but then frowned when he looked down at the spot on the table in front of Louis.

            “Where’s your food?” he asked.

            “I’m not hungry right now,” Louis said. “I’m not even used to being up this early, you know?”

            Zayn gave Louis a disbelieving look, his eyes showing fear again.

            “Do you know something about the food?” he asked. “Did they poison it?”

            “No, Zayn,” Louis assured the man patiently. “The food is just fine.”

            “Are you sure?” he asked, looking at his own bread, distrusting.

            “Hey, you know I wouldn’t put you in danger,” Louis said.

            “I know,” Zayn sighed. “What am I going to do when you’re gone?”

            “You’re going to be fine,” Louis assured him, resting his head on Zayn’s shoulder. After a whole minute of internal debate, Zayn picked up his food and started eating again, which was also progress, given that his first night there, he’d thrown his entire tray against the wall and accused the whole staff of being murderers.

            “I miss real food,” Zayn sighed.

            “Me, too,” Louis agreed. “I think I’ll get pizza tonight. Want to get pizza when you get out?”

            “Yes, definitely. What kind of pizza are you going to get?”

            “I don’t know,” Louis said. “I’ll call you later and let you know what I decide.”

            “Do you promise?”

            “I promise.”

            “Isabelle says you won’t.”

            “Tell Isabelle to shut the fuck up.”

            Zayn snorted.

            “She heard,” he said, “and Hazel said that was rude.”

            “Well, Hazel can suck my dick.”

            Zayn snorted again, and kept giggling as he chewed another bite of food. Then, with another sigh, he said,

            “I’m going to miss you.”

            “I know,” Louis said. Zayn would probably miss him more when he was gone than anyone outside of the place had missed him while he was being institutionalized.

Meaning his words, Louis said, “I’ll miss you too.”

 

It had been a little over a year since Louis’s first suicide attempt-the one in which Harry saved his life-and four months since his last one. The first of those months Louis had spent in the regular hospital because, after jumping in front of a car going down the highway, he was left with five broken ribs as well as a broken leg, wrist and elbow, and he’d had a concussion so severe that he didn’t stop seizing for a week. Why he was alive, doctors couldn’t explain. Neither could Louis, and he was far more upset over his failure that time than he had been the first.

Once released from the normal hospital, Louis spent three months in the mental institution, but he had reached his insurance limit and so was now being kicked out (just another wonderful thing about America, Louis had thought sarcastically when being told the news.) Of course, the doctors insisted that he was ‘in remission,’ but the only thing that was going to keep Louis from leaving and jumping off a bridge was his promise to Zayn that he would call him that night. But he was totally fine, right?

            After morning activities and lunch were through, Louis stayed in the rec room with Zayn until Catherine approached, telling him that his ride was there. Then, Louis gave Zayn a hug that was so long, Catherine cleared her throat to break it up, told him not to listen to anyone who said he was anything but wonderful, and gave one last promise to call that night. Zayn teared up and Louis had to turn away, refusing to cry over leaving that place, lest it be from happiness, but since Louis hadn’t felt happiness in he didn’t even know how long, he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

            As soon as Louis stepped foot into the reception hall and saw the person waiting at the desk, he froze. Catherine took a couple more steps before realizing that Louis didn’t follow, and then she turned and tilted her head to the side, frowning at Louis in what almost looked like concern.

            “Is something wrong?” she asked as she walked closer to Louis again.

            “Is he here for me?” Louis asked, gazing past her to stare at the only person he wanted to see, but the last person he expected; Harry.

            “Yes,” Catherine said, drawing out the word. “Is there a problem?”

            “I thought my sister was picking me up?”

            “I don’t know. Do you know this man? Is he a danger to you, physically or mentally? Do I need to call security?”

            “No, no,” Louis assured the woman, shooting her what he hoped looked like a real smile. “He’s not dangerous, it’s just…”

            Louis shook his head.

            “It’s fine,” he said.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes.”

            “It’s no problem to call security.”

            “That’s alright. Thanks, Nurse Catherine.”

            “Just Catherine will suffice now, Louis.”

            Louis nodded and then continued following his former nurse, his legs shaking. When Harry heard them approaching, he glanced over and nodded to Louis. Catherine was giving him a quite intimidating gaze, so he chose to smile at her.

            “Hey, Louis,” Harry said, trying to make his voice sound friendly. He didn’t quite make it, and Louis felt Catherine’s eyes burning into him. He ignored her.

            “Hi,” Louis said. “Um…where’s Lottie?”

            “She had an emergency at work.”

            Louis wondered what kind of emergency could occur at a hair salon that was more important than picking up her brother, but then he realized that probably any mild inconvenience would be more important, and he couldn’t blame her for that.

            “Oh,” he said. “Well, thanks for picking me up.”

            “Duke told me to,” Harry said. Louis cringed at the mere mention of his ex-husband, who also happened to be Harry’s current boyfriend.

            “Are you ready?” Harry asked when Louis didn’t say anything else. Louis told him that he was, and after retrieving his few belongings from the receptionist at the front desk, Louis followed Harry out.

            Knowing Harry wouldn’t want to sit next to him, Louis got into the backseat. Wordlessly, Harry climbed into the driver’s side and buckled his seat belt. He glanced back and looked like he wanted to say something, perhaps about the fact that Louis had left his belt unbuckled, but didn’t.

            All the way to his sister’s house, Louis wanted to tell Harry how good he looked. Not that he didn’t always look good, of course, but he looked different; healthy. He’d been off drugs for five months and wasn’t quite as underweight as he had been. Maybe Duke was treating him well after all. Maybe it was only Louis that had driven him insane. He tended to do that to people.

Louis knew that Harry wouldn’t accept the compliment from him, though, and perhaps would even be offended by it, so Louis remained quiet. In fact, nothing at all was said until Harry pulled into Lottie’s driveway.

            “You know, Duke might have forgiven you, but what you did isn’t okay.”

            “I know,” Louis said, biting his lip and keeping his hand on the door handle. That seemed to be all Harry had to say, though, so Louis thanked him for the ride and got out of the car.

Harry drove away before making sure that Louis got in okay, which he didn’t, because he realized then that he didn’t have a key to Lottie’s house. With a sigh, he set his backpack filled with his few belongings onto the ground and sat next to it. His stomach growled, and it was then that Louis remembered he hadn’t eaten all day, but oh well. A few more hours wouldn’t kill him, and if it did, so what?

***

**_You’re making the worst mistake of your life_ ** _, Louis told himself on the way to his estranged husband’s place to do what he told himself and Harry he wasn’t going to do; take him back. Louis wasn’t merely trying to convince himself that he was making a mistake. Deep down, he knew it. He’d even called Duke a liar straight to his face when they’d met up earlier to go over their divorce and he cried and told Louis how sorry he was and how he would never, ever hurt him again._

_But Louis was lonely and tired of living out of bags in hotel rooms, which Duke claimed he was going to stop paying for anyway. With no experience, it was hard for Louis to find a job in California, where everyone was looking for work, and the money he received from doing small, under-the-table jobs here and there was slowly dwindling. He was about two days away from living in an old, beat-up car and having to scrounge through dumpsters for food. Sure, he could call his mom back in England and she would probably figure out a way to get him home, but he wasn’t sure the constant ‘I told you so’ speech would be worth it. Besides, his sister had just moved to California, and it would make him a terrible brother to leave her there with nobody that she knew._

_So, while Louis knew going back was a mistake, he didn’t really know of any other choice._

_It was fine at first, as Louis knew it would be. Duke spoiled him with love and all the material things that he thought Louis wanted. He did everything he could to make sure that an argument didn’t break out and bragged to anyone who would listen about how wonderful his husband was._

_After three weeks, Duke grew tired of the games._

_The first thing to go wrong-that time around-was Louis waking up to find Duke’s hand down his pants. But after being pushed off and told to stop it, Duke apologized and was good for another week, until he didn’t care when Louis said no._

_After that, the insults were quick to come. Louis didn’t keep the house clean enough. The meals he made weren’t good. He was lazy and needed a job (though every time he had an interview, Duke would make him cancel.)_

_Finally, once he couldn’t take merely hurting Louis with words anymore, Duke started hitting him again. It wasn’t as bad as before-not yet-but Louis knew that, within a few days, he would be back to spending the morning in front of the mirror, hiding bruises and cuts._

_That went on for a month before Louis had had enough._

_Louis was almost asleep when he felt his husband’s hand grope him. He held in a sigh, at first deciding not to fight it that time, as it never did any good._

_When Duke rolled him over and realized that he was still awake, he startled, but then smiled._

_“Hello, gorgeous,” he said in the huskiest voice he could force. “Let’s have sex.”_

_“Duke,” Louis groaned as the other man climbed on top of him. Though it was disgusting how his husband felt okay to do the things he did to him while he was asleep, Louis preferred it, in a way. “Not right now. I don’t feel good.”_

_“You **never** feel good,” Duke claimed, even though Louis only used that excuse when it was true. _

_“I hit my head really hard earlier when you pushed me into the shower-”_

_“What was that?”_

_“…I said I hit my head really hard earlier when I slipped in the shower, and I think I might have a concussion, so if you could not-”_

_But Duke stuck his tongue into Louis’s mouth, silencing him. Slowly, he pinned Louis’s arms above his head as he continued kissing him, and when he felt Louis’s body go limp beneath his, he let go of one of his wrists to remove his husband’s pants._

_Louis didn’t know what made him do what he did next. He would later wonder if it was a result of the concussion he knew he had, but in that moment, a white-hot anger coursed through him, fueling him, and in one swift movement, he’d swiped the lamp from his bedside table and crashed it down upon his husband’s back. Duke yelled out in pain and Louis used that as an opportunity to knock him to the side and run._

_Unfortunately, even injured, Duke was quicker, and caught up when Louis was at the stairs, pulling him back by his hair. Louis fell to the ground, but his anger and adrenaline was still giving him power unlike which he’d ever known, and he kneed Duke in his groin._

_Louis made it out the door that time before Duke caught up with him, but as he grabbed onto Louis’s arm, Louis elbowed him in the nose. A loud, nasty crack suggested that he broke it. The sound that came from Duke’s mouth sounded like an enraged animal._

_“You fucker!” he yelled, blood from his nose dripping everywhere as he made a grab for Louis, who kicked him in the stomach and made him fall to the ground. Then, when Duke made a grab for him again, Louis stepped on his other hand, just for good measure._

_Unfortunately, that was when the neighbor who had been taking a night time stroll ran over and held Louis on the ground until police came._

_Louis was unsure whether it was shock or the concussion, but he found it impossible to talk once being questioned by the police. That infuriated them, naturally, and his ‘lack of remorse’ made them deem him a potential psychopath._

_Though Duke didn’t press charges, Louis spent that night in jail and went through three months of anger management courses._

_By the time that Louis got the courage to tell someone-his anger management counselor-that what he did had been self-defense, his concussion and all other signs of abuse that may have been on his body were gone, and so no one believed him._

_Of course, it didn’t help that Duke had told them all of the recurring abuse he’d suffered from Louis throughout their entire relationship, and his stories were too heartbreaking and realistic to not be true. They **were** true, actually; he simply claimed that he had been the abused and not the abuser._

_Looking back on that night, though, Louis knew that he’d taken it too far. He hadn’t needed to hurt Duke. He could have told somebody what was happening, not that they would probably believe him. His counselor hadn’t believed him, nor had his teachers at school back when he was a child and told them some of the things that his parents did to him. (It was only after both legs were broken and there was extensive damage done to other parts of his body that Louis was taken away and his Aunt Johannah adopted him, finally showing him what a true mother was.)_

_Still, Louis could have left. After all, was an ‘I told you so’ speech really worse than being mistreated by the man who was supposed to love you?_

_So really, Louis realized, it was his fault; all of it. He deserved for his sister (who was biologically his cousin, but his sister in every way that mattered) to be afraid of him, though he would never hurt her. He deserved for everyone to hate him._

***

           

“Hey, Louis. Sorry.”

            Lottie rushed to open the front door to her house after pulling into the garage. Louis wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there waiting for her, but it had felt like hours.

            “It’s okay,” he assured her anyway, hating that she had looked so frightened when she apologized.

            “I thought Ricky would have been home by now.”

            “It’s fine,” Louis said. Finally, the woman succeeded in opening the door and stepped back to allow Louis to enter first. He thanked her and made sure he kept his distance as he did so.

            “Are you hungry?” Lottie asked as she closed the door and locked up behind the two.

            “Yeah,” Louis said, to which his sister again apologized.

            “What do you want?” she asked after Louis had told her-again-that everything was good.

            “Pizza?” he suggested, but then said, “Or whatever. I don’t care.”

            “Pizza is fine,” Lottie agreed quickly. Louis sighed.

            “Lots, you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

            “I’m not,” she lied, her eyes wide with fear even as she did. Louis sighed.

            “Just get whatever you want to eat,” he told her, feeling defeated. “Am I staying in the spare bedroom?”

            “Yeah. All we have in there right now is an air mattress, but we can get you a real bed soon.”

            “An air mattress is fine. I probably won’t be living here long.”

            Lottie didn’t say so, but Louis could tell by her face that she hoped it was the truth.

 

            None to Louis’s surprise, Lottie ended up ordering pizza; a whole pizza with all of his favorite toppings on it, even sausage, which she didn’t even like.

            “You know you could have gotten half and half,” Louis said, and she shrugged.

            “You’re probably hungrier than we are,” she said, trying to joke, but her discomfort was still noticeable. Her fiancé, Ricky, offered a stiff smile.

            Holding in another sigh, Louis took a slice of pizza, deciding to give his new living situation a week. If things didn’t get better, he would go back to living in his car, like he had been for a month before being hospitalized.

            “Harry picked you up, then?” Lottie asked, and Louis didn’t know if she was trying to make polite conversation, or was just too curious for her own good.

            “Yeah,” Louis answered after swallowing his bite.

            “How was that?”

            “It was fine,” he said with a shrug. “We didn’t really talk, but…He looks good.”

            “He’s doing great,” Lottie said, then added, “And Duke’s doing well too.”

            “Good,” Louis said, even though he couldn’t care less. He hoped, at least, that if Duke was doing alright, then he was treating Harry as Harry deserved to be treated.

            After dinner, Louis and Lottie’s mom called to ask how everything was going. Lottie told her everything was fine, and Louis didn’t verbally disagree. A few minutes after they disconnected with her, Lottie’s phone rang again. She gave it a weird look as she answered.

            “Hello?” she said reluctantly into the receiver and then, “Um…yeah. Hold on.”

            Handing the device out to Louis, she said, “It’s for you.”

            “Zayn,” Louis whispered to himself, accepting the phone.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey.”

            As he’d thought, it was Zayn. The patient continued,           

            “I know you said you would call, but Isabelle said that you wouldn’t and that you probably gave me a false number, and she wouldn’t shut up about it until I tried to ring you.”

            “I just got off the phone with my mum,” Louis said. “I was going to call, but it’s fine! What’s up? How did your day go?”

            “Yeah, Lucio told Isabelle that you’re a nice guy and wouldn’t do that, but you know Isabelle…”

            As Zayn went on, talking about his day, Louis couldn’t help but to smile a little. At least there were two people who didn’t hate or fear him, even if one was simply a mere voice in someone’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is also based off of one of our friends, so thanks, Stef, for letting us write about you! :p 
> 
> There will be Harry in more chapters, both in present time and in flashbacks, so don't worry! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter jumps a bit again, but from here on, it will be on a more consistent timeline (except for the flashbacks when they're included, of course.)
> 
> Also, Harry's P.O.V. appears briefly in this chapter! (I noted where it was.) Though his P.O.V. probably won't pop up too often, it will every now and then. Hopefully that is enjoyable for you!

            “Good morning, Louis! It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

            Louis raised an eyebrow, not wanting to ruin Zayn’s apparent good mood, but he wasn’t quite feeling it that day. Well, he never really ‘felt’ like anything; didn’t ever want to get out of bed, take a shower, eat, talk, breathe…

            He still did it, though; all of it. Every day. (Besides shower and eat, but he did those _most_ days.)

            “Zayn, have you been taking your pills?” Louis asked. Zayn laughed.

            “Yes,” he answered.

            “All of them?”

            “Every single one!”

            Louis believed him. Ever since being released from the mental institution six months ago, Zayn had been doing better than probably anyone had ever expected. He took his medicine every day and, while it wasn’t a cure-all and sometimes he still heard voices and had extreme mood swings, he stayed strong. Never once did he miss a therapy appointment. Louis was proud of his friend and co-worker.

            Once released from the institution, Zayn took the money he’d inherited from his mother (her death had been the main contributing factor to the onset of his mental problems) and bought a small building, which he then turned into a tattoo shop. He’d been a tattoo and piercing artist before his breakdown, and after living by someone else’s rules for so long in the hospital, Zayn decided that he would make his own business instead of working for another person.

            So far, Louis was the only employee that Zayn had. He’d never seen himself doing this for a living, but he liked it well enough.

In the hospital, Zayn had seen some of the drawings that Louis created, simply to get himself out of his head, and said that he’d had a natural talent. Once he was released, he paid for Louis to get his license, assuring him that he could pay him back later ‘once he got back on his feet.’ Louis didn’t mention that he’d never been on his feet in the first place.

            “I don’t have any appointments today, do I?” Louis asked, changing the subject.

            “Not yet,” Zayn replied. “I have one, but it’s not for a couple hours. You can take any walk in you want, though…”

            Zayn trailed off as the bell above their front door rang, signaling that someone was coming in.

            “Any of them except this one,” Zayn amended quickly as he jumped to his feet, putting on the most charming smile he had. Louis looked down as he smiled too, not mentioning that the man who just entered the shop was probably there for Zayn anyway.

            “Hey, Liam,” Zayn greeted, sounding calmer than Louis knew he truly was.

            “Hi, Zayn,” Liam said, a smile in his voice and then, politely, he added, “Hey, Louis.”

            “Hi,” Louis said, looking up and offering a smile. Liam returned it quickly and then looked at Zayn again.

            “I have bad news,” he informed him. Zayn frowned.

            “What is it?” he asked.

            “I think I ruined the tattoo you gave me a couple weeks ago.”

            Zayn ‘tsked’ in mock disappointment and asked,

            “What did you do?”

            “Well,” Liam began, speaking slowly, as if he were afraid that Zayn was going to be angry or disappointed with him. “I went on vacation and I wasn’t taking very good care of the tattoo. There was a lot of chlorine water and sun involved and…um…I got an infection. I went on medicine and am fine now, but I’m not sure about the tattoo.”

            “That just hurt my soul, Liam,” Zayn said, and Louis knew he was teasing, but Liam swallowed, looking guilty.

            “I’m sorry,” he said.

            “Let me see,” Zayn asked. Liam held out his arm, flipping it over so that Zayn could inspect the damage done to the artwork he’d inked into Liam’s wrist. Zayn gasped, making Liam jump, but then, after a dramatic pause, Zayn said,

            “That’s not so bad.”

            “Really?” Liam asked.

            “Really,” Zayn assured him. “Have you got about twenty minutes? I can fix it up right now.”

            “You can?!” Liam asked, looking at Zayn as if he were a true wonder of the world.

            “Come now, Liam; where is your faith in me?” Zayn asked. Liam gave a sheepish grin.

            “I have faith in you,” he said, “but you continue to amaze me with each new tattoo.”

            Three months ago, Liam came into the shop, a tattoo virgin who almost fainted when he first heard the needle gun turn on. Now, he had four tattoos (all done by Zayn) and claimed that he was going to work towards a sleeve.

            Louis didn’t doubt that Liam liked his tattoos, but he thought that he liked Zayn a lot more.

            “You’re so sweet,” Zayn told Liam, winking to keep his ‘cool’ exterior. “Would you mind writing a review like that on Facebook?”

            “Yeah, of course!” Liam said, like he found himself crazy for not thinking of doing that before.

            Going around the counter, Zayn motioned for Liam to follow him, which he obediently did.

            “So you really think you can fix this?” Liam asked, his voice getting quieter the farther from Louis he walked.

            “I know I can,” Zayn said, rightly confident.

            “Cool,” Liam said, and then, “So you have Facebook?”

            Louis thought he heard Zayn say something like, ‘Who doesn’t have Facebook,’ though he couldn’t be sure.

            Laughing a bit to himself, Louis retrieved a blank sheet of paper from under the counter and began sketching ideas for cheap tattoos, should someone come in for some spur-of-the-moment ink.

            Only a few minutes later, the bell above the shop’s door rang again, but Louis was in the middle of a piece, so he called out a cheerful, ‘hello,’ in the hopes that their customer wouldn’t find it rude that he didn’t look up. He heard the person approach the counter.

            “I’ll be right with you,” Louis said.

            “Take your time,” the new arrival told him, and Louis jolted at the familiar voice, putting a line right through the skull he’d been drawing. The man in front of him laughed.

            “Weren’t expecting me, were you?”

            “What do you want, Duke?” Louis returned with a sigh, finally looking up into the face that quite literally still haunted his nightmares.

            “That’s not a very nice way to treat a paying customer,” Duke joked, smiling like he was the funniest comedian in the world.

            “While I think you should pay me for emotional trauma every time I have to see you, I know I’m never going to see a cent of yours again, so what do you want?”

            Just like that, Duke’s smile turned to a scowl. He didn’t like when Louis talked back; never had.

            “I want to get your initials covered,” Duke said flatly, and Louis took that as a great opportunity to say,

            “You haven’t gotten those covered yet?! What the bloody hell are you waiting for, mate? I covered yours the second those divorce papers were signed.”

            That wasn’t true, but Duke didn’t need to know that. Hopefully, he would never see Louis’s bare bum again, so he would never need to find out that he was lying.

            “Good for you,” Duke commented, his voice laced with hatred. Though frightened, Louis couldn’t help but smile. Duke continued,

            “Anyway, I was thinking Harry and I could swing by later and you could give us something couple-y. Nothing too cheesy, of course, but something to show that he’s mine.”

            “Creepy,” Louis commented, but then, simply because he would do basically anything to see Harry, he said, “Sure, whatever. Come by around nine and I’ll give ya something real quick.”

            “Eight thirty,” Duke said. Louis gritted his teeth to not roll his eyes.

            “Eight thirty is around nine,” he finally managed to get out, “so that’s fine.”

            “It might be a bit later.”

            “Okay, but I’m leaving at quarter after whether you’ve been here or not.”

            “We’ll see,” Duke said, and in Louis’s head, that meant he’d won that particular battle. Then, in a much cheerier tone, as if they were the best of friends, Louis’s ex asked,

            “So whatcha workin’ on, Lou?”

            “Nothing,” Louis said, balling up the piece of paper he’d been doodling on and throwing it into the nearby rubbish bin. That’s what the drawings had been anyway; rubbish.

            “You’ve always been so secretive about your work,” Duke sighed. “Anyway, draw us up something cute and Harry and I will see you tonight!”

            With a wave, Duke turned and all but bounced out of the shop. Louis rolled his eyes. There had been a time, a long while ago, when Louis thought that Duke couldn’t possibly be real. He was too good to be true, he remembered telling his sister.

            Now, he sometimes still didn’t think Duke could be real, simply because he wasn’t quite sure he believed in the devil.

            “I’m trusting you to take care of my artwork this time!” Zayn’s voice sounded from down the hall. Louis heard footsteps too, and quickly looked in the mirror to make sure his internal distress wasn’t showing on his face.

            “I will!” Liam promised. “Seriously, I don’t know how you do it! This looks even better than the first time!”

            “What can I say? I was inspired.”

            The boys reached the front, and Zayn went around the counter to stand next to Louis, though he leaned seductively against the counter, his collar bones sticking out of his v-neck shirt. Liam gave the man a subtle once-over and even licked his lips, though he returned his gaze to Zayn’s eyes quickly and then smiled.

            “How much do I owe you?” he asked, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

            “Nothing,” Zayn said.

            “What? No. I want to pay you,” Liam insisted.

            “You get a free touch-up for up to six months,” Zayn reminded him. “We’ll just pretend that you weren’t the reason it was necessary.”

            Liam smiled, hesitantly putting his wallet back in his pocket.

            “Alright,” he said. “Well, thank you.”

            “No problem. When are you planning on getting your next one?” Zayn asked.

            “I don’t know,” Liam answered, but before a single beat had passed, he added, “It definitely won’t be too long.”

            “Do you have an artist in mind?”

            “I might,” Liam teased with a wink. Zayn smiled, standing up straight and pushing his hair back.

            “Guess I might see you around then, Liam,” he said, to which Liam replied,

            “Yeah. Maybe.”

            With another thank you to Zayn and a goodbye to Louis, Liam left the shop. Zayn very noticeably watched him go, biting his lip as he stared at the man’s buttocks.

            “I love him,” he sighed, throwing himself down into the nearest stool, once Liam was halfway across the parking lot.

            “You want to fuck him,” Louis said.

            “Yeah,” Zayn agreed, “but I do love him too.”

            Louis wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but who was he to judge?

            “Well, then, Zaynie,” he said, “not to be old fashioned, but maybe you should ask him on a date.”

            Zayn smiled at the suggestion, but then frowned and shook his head.

            “No,” he sighed. “I can’t.”

            “Why not?”

            “I don’t even know if he’s interested in men.”

            “Um, he was totally eye fucking the shit out of you just now,” Louis told him. “He’s definitely interested, at least in you.”

            Again, Zayn smiled before shaking his head.

            “That would change when he finds out I’m bat shit crazy.”

            “You’re not bat shit crazy,” Louis disagreed. “You at least lost the ‘bat shit’ part. Now you’re just crazy.”

            Zayn narrowed his eyes. Louis smiled.

            “Seriously, though,” he continued, “I know this goes against everything you believe right now, but Liam can’t be perfect either.”

            “There’s a difference between being not perfect and having friends no one else can see or hear.”

            “I wouldn’t necessarily consider them ‘friends,’” Louis pointed out. “You’re doing so great, though, Zayn. You’ve overcome so much and if Liam or anyone else can’t appreciate that, then fuck them, and not in a good way.”

            Zayn smiled, embarrassed over the compliments.

            “Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving a hand at Louis. “I have to get ready for my appointment.”

            With that, he walked to the back. Louis decided to be a good friend and not remind him that his appointment wasn’t due for another couple of hours.

 

            Just before nine, Louis sent a text to his flat mate, Niall, to let him know that he would be home later than normal.

            After getting out of the institution, Niall was the only friend Louis had besides Zayn (who was still in the hospital, though Louis made sure to visit him once a week and call at least every other night). Niall was a friend of Lottie’s fiancé, who had been going through a rough time due to finding out his husband had been cheating on him for nearly a year. He’d made the discovery only two months after marrying him.

            He hadn’t looked broken, as Louis thought he would when Lottie told him what the man had gone through. His laugh was loud and boisterous, his smile contagious, and his eyes sparkled like he’d never been hurt in his life. Louis was in awe.

            “So, Louis; tell me about yourself,” Niall had requested after what Louis thought was probably one too many beers. The way he plopped himself down into the empty chair beside Louis and threw his arm around his shoulders made Lottie and Ricky tense up.

            “I’m sure you’ve heard quite a bit about me,” Louis said, trying to smile, but suddenly just wanting to hide under a rock. Or a boulder, as that would crush him and end his misery.

            “I’ve heard what other people say about you,” he said. “I’m not quite sure I believe it, though. I mean, look; everyone thought my ex was such a great fellow, and that didn’t turn out so well, did it?”

            Despite everything, Louis laughed.

            “Sorry,” he said right away.

            “No need to apologize, mate,” Niall said, and then distanced himself from Louis, but only a bit. He was still smiling; still relaxed. He continued,

            “You don’t have to tell me about yourself right now, but if you ever want to hang out with damaged goods, let me know. Misery loves company and all that, yeah?”

            Louis appreciated the offer, but didn’t plan on pursuing a relationship of any kind with Niall. After all, he’d been quite drunk when he decided that he wanted to be friends with the psychopathic husband-abuser. But then Niall got his number by stealing Lottie’s phone, and the next thing Louis knew, he was moving away from his sister’s untrusting eyes to live with Niall.

            Sometimes, Louis and Niall pretended they were dating. Occasionally, they even pretended they were in love, but they weren’t. Louis simply liked the idea of someone being able to love him as he was, and Niall wanted to feel as if he could love someone again.

            Once nine fifteen rolled around and there still hadn’t been a sign from Duke or Harry, Louis stood, put away the book he had been reading, and grabbed the keys to lock up.

            As soon as he stepped outside, he saw a car pulling into the parking lot. He continued locking up anyway.

            “Hey, Lou; sorry we’re late!”

            With his back still to his ex, Louis rolled his eyes. He heard Harry say,

            “I thought you said they were open until ten?”

            “Did I?” Duke asked. Harry didn’t reply, but Louis didn’t really give him a chance because he turned and offered a fake smile. His ex-husband returned it, his eyes glinting evilly, though it might have just looked evil to Louis since he now associated the man with Satan.

            “We actually close at nine,” Louis informed the pair.

            “That’s okay,” Harry said, tugging at Duke’s hand. The way he looked at Louis; making it clear that he wanted to get far away from him, hurt, but he didn’t let it show. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”

            “But, babe, you were so ready for this to happen tonight,” Duke said.

            “Well, they’re closed, darling, so there’s really nothing we can do about it.”

            Louis hesitated for only a moment before silently sighing. _Damn Harry for looking so good._

            “I’ve got nothing to do tonight,” Louis said, putting the key back into the lock and twisting it. “Come on in.”

            Harry stared Duke down as the other man offered only a smile. Placing his hand on the small of Harry’s back, he ushered him in behind Louis.

            “What ideas do you have for us?” Duke asked as Louis went around the front counter to grab a pen and a piece of paper.

            “None,” he answered. “I need a basic idea of what you two want first.”

            “Just nothing too cheesy,” Duke said for the second time. Harry was quick to ask,

            “What counts as ‘cheesy?’”

            “Pretty much anything you suggested earlier,” Duke told him.

            “Rude,” Harry said, and then, to Louis,

            “Forget the couple’s tattoo then. What else have you got?”

            “Um…What would you like?” Louis asked, getting flustered as Harry leaned against the counter and started flipping through the book Zayn had put together of what he considered to be his and Louis’s best works.

            “Wait, we’re really not getting a couple tattoo?” Duke asked, looking shocked that someone dared go against his wishes. It made Louis nervous, but Harry didn’t appear to have a single concern as he replied,

            “No, since you didn’t like any of my ideas.”

            “We could get each other’s initials,” Duke suggested.

            “I think you made that mistake last time,” Harry replied cooly. _Ouch._ That hurt the both of them, Louis thought.

            To Louis, Harry said,

            “Can I get a black butterfly on my back?”

            “Are you serious?” Duke asked. Harry told him that he was.

            “It means a lot to me,” he said.

            “Like what?!” his boyfriend said incredulously. “That you’re gayer than I thought?!”

            “I can do a black butterfly,” Louis interjected quickly. “Are you getting anything, Duke?”

            “Guess not,” Duke huffed. “It looks like your initials are staying on me a bit longer.”

            “That one is small,” Louis said. “I can cover it with pretty much anything. How about, when Harry finishes with the book, you look through it for some ideas?”

            “I’m done,” Harry said, passing the book to his boyfriend.

Getting his phone out, Harry unlocked it and quickly opened it to a picture of a butterfly.

            “Can you make mine kind of like this one?” he asked Louis.

            “Yeah, of course,” he said, taking the phone from Harry and studying it for a couple moments. Then, he asked, “Where on your back do you want it and how big?”

            As the two discussed Harry’s future tattoo, Louis felt Duke staring at them, though whenever Harry looked, he quickly reverted his eyes to the book in his hands and flipped a page. He still hadn’t made up his mind when Louis had Harry’s butterfly sketched out and led him back to his work station.

            It was hard for Louis to remain professional when Harry took off his shirt, but he succeeded, finding joy in the fact that Harry was well filled out and toned. Perhaps he’d finally beaten all of his eating disorders, and maybe for good.

            After getting Harry situated on the table, Louis positioned himself to where he could comfortably and adequately work, and then put the printed tattoo outline where he thought Harry wanted it. At his touch, Harry shivered, and goosebumps popped up on his bare skin.

            “Sorry,” Louis apologized. “Are my hands cold?”

            “A bit,” Harry said.

            “I can try to warm them up first.”

            “No, that’s okay,” Harry told him. “I’ll get used to it.”

            If it were anyone else, Louis probably would have made a joke about how he hoped they could get used to his hands on their body, but if he did, he would be double jumped by Harry and Duke, and Harry would hate him even more. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and turned on some music to relax him as he worked. He hoped that, when he was done, Duke told Harry something cheesy but true, like how he was prettier than any butterfly.

 

***Harry***

            Duke was mad; maybe even furious, but Harry didn’t care. He loved his butterfly tattoo, and he hadn’t even been a big fan of the ‘couple’s tattoo’ idea anyway. He especially hadn’t been a fan of Louis giving them their couple’s tattoo, though Duke insisted they go to him to “show support in the fact that he’s turning his life around.”

            As far as Harry saw it, Louis was still hurting people. Sure, he was doing it in a socially acceptable way now. He was always given permission to burn images into his clients’ skin. Still, Harry had to wonder if it was enjoyable to him in a way that it shouldn’t have been.

            That was why he told himself it was fear when he got chills the instant Louis touched him. He completely denied to himself the idea that he was anxious in all the right ways to feel Louis’s hands on him again.

            Either way, the goosebumps disappeared once the tattoo was started. After all, it was kind of hard to feel chilled when his back was in excruciating pain.

            Louis checked on him multiple times; asking if he needed water or a break. Harry said no in each instance, but sometimes Louis would take a smoke break anyway, and Harry thought he was doing it for his benefit.

            The way Louis was talking with him while being concerned over his well-being, the way he smiled when he looked at Harry’s face to make sure he was truly okay, and the way his fingers gently rested on his skin, almost made Harry forget what kind of person Louis was. He supposed that was the problem with men like Louis. They were so outwardly attractive and charismatic that people overlooked or forgot about all the wrongs they’d done.

            Harry’s face grew hot when he remembered that, once upon a time, before he’d stopped believing in fairytales, he thought Louis might be his Prince Charming in disguise. He was disgusted with himself when he remembered how jealous he’d been of Duke throughout his marriage to Louis; until the very end, at least.

            “Babe,” Harry whined once his boyfriend had pulled into the garage at their house. He reached over to tickle the man’s ear, but Duke pulled away, scowling.

            “Don’t touch me,” he said.

            “Come on,” Harry pleaded in the same tone of voice he’d used before. “You can’t be that mad.”

            “I can’t believe you got a fucking butterfly.”

            “Well I can’t believe you still have your ex-husband’s initials tattooed across your heart!”

            “I couldn’t find anything that I liked,” Duke said defensively.

            “You couldn’t find _anything_ that you liked more than his initials?!”

            Duke shrugged.

            “It’s a big commitment!”

            Harry rolled his eyes, but decided not to comment directly to that.

            “How about we get a couple’s tattoo when we’re married?” he suggested. Sure, Duke could still leave him when they were married, but the likelihood was smaller.

            “Married?!” Duke asked, sounding horrified. Harry didn’t blink, not wanting to show that his tone had stung.

            “You said you want to get married again someday,” Harry said. “I was assuming, since I was your boyfriend, that you meant you wanted to get married to me, but apparently-”

            “Of course I do,” Duke huffed, opening the car door but not yet getting out. “Don’t be so needy.”

            Before he could stop himself, Harry let out a sound of disgust. Duke knew he hated being called ‘needy’ more than anything else (even if it was true), and so he decided that if his neediness put his boyfriend out so much, he would sleep in the spare room.

            “Harry!” Duke called after the man had slammed the door and let himself into the house. Harry ignored him, so he got out of the car and slammed his own door, hurrying to catch up. When he succeeded, he grabbed his boyfriend’s wrist and spun him forcefully around, making him gasp, but Duke caught the breath with his mouth. Though Harry made a noise of protest, he didn’t try all that hard to get away.

            “I’m sorry,” Duke said when he broke apart, bringing Harry against him and running his nails up and down his back. “You know how I get when I’ve been around him.”

            “I know,” Harry said. “I don’t understand why you don’t just cut him out of your life for good.”

            “We’ve been through a lot together,” Duke said, not for the first time. “I don’t expect you to understand, but please don’t be mad.”

            “Do you still want him?” Harry asked, pulling away a bit to look in Duke’s eyes, which currently held sadness.

            “No,” he said. “I only want you, Hazza.”

            Duke kissed him again, and Harry felt himself melt, despite trying his hardest to keep his reserve.

            He supposed that was the problem with men like Duke. They always seemed too good to be true, leaving the ones they loved wondering when it was all going to fall apart around them.

            But they made damn sure that the fall was a sweet one.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

            _“Lou, get out of bed! Why have you been so lazy?”_

_Louis whined in protest as his boyfriend ripped the sheets off the bed while curling into himself like he was cold, even though it was hot in their bedroom._

_“I want to go home,” he said, turning his head so that his face was half buried in the pillow. Straddling him, Duke stared, but when Louis refused to turn and make eye contact, the man began to tickle him in the side and on the stomach. Louis screamed and bucked his hips up, laughing; mostly because he was being tickled but also because he was grateful that he wasn’t being hit._

_Once Duke figured that Louis was either going to pass out or pee himself if he continued being tickled, he collapsed next to him and kissed the tip of his nose, giving his boyfriend a smile._

_It was in instances such as that one where Louis remembered why he was with the guy, besides low self-esteem and a tendency to self-harm._

_“This is our home now, baby,” Duke said softly, brushing a strand of Louis’s hair off his forehead; in vain, since it fell right back. Louis sighed and sat up, hugging his knees._

_“I hate it here,” he said. “I don’t know anybody. I can’t find a job. I don’t have the California **look.”**_

_“Don’t say that. My man is gorgeous.”_

_Louis rolled his eyes, not mentioning that if he was **that** gorgeous, then Duke wouldn’t feel the need to go out with co-workers and come home smelling like sex at five or six in the morning._

_“I hate it here,” Louis repeated, nearly shuddering at how his voice broke. Duke reached out to hold his hand._

_“I’m going to take you out tonight.”_

_Louis raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. They’d been in California five months and Duke had only asked him to come out with him one time. Sure, Louis could probably ask to go along sometimes, but he knew when he wasn’t wanted. He’d had plenty of experience._

_“What?” Duke asked. “You really need to get out. Staying inside all the time is going to make you depressed.”_

_**I’m already there,** Louis almost said, but didn’t. He knew his depression had little to do with the fact that he never left the house-it was vice versa, actually-but still; it couldn’t hurt, he guessed._

_“Where are we going?” he asked._

_“You know my friend, Gemma?”_

_“I remember you mentioning her. She’s from England too, right?”_

_“Yeah. Well, her brother is an aspiring singer and he has a gig tonight at a restaurant-bar-thing in the hotel she manages, so she invited me to come out and see him.”_

_“And you want me to come?”_

_“Of course,” Duke said, pulling Louis down on top of him and kissing him while beginning to undo his belt. “I want to show off my sexy boyfriend.”_

_Louis gave a small laugh and lightly pushed Duke off, but the man persisted; returning his hands right to Louis’s hips as he slid his belt from the loops and tossed it on the ground._

_“Come on,” he pleaded while unbuttoning his boyfriend’s jeans. “It’s been so long.”_

_“Excuse you, but I know for a fact that you slipped something into my drink last night,” Louis said, and instead of seeming ashamed or at least alarmed like he’d expected, Duke only smiled sheepishly._

_“Well, what else am I supposed to do when I’m dating the Ice King?”_

_“Melt me?” Louis suggested._

_“Too much work,” Duke sighed. “I’d rather crack you open.”_

_Louis gasped as Duke tossed him to the side in one swift movement, but he forced a smile as the man leaned over him and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips._

_“You’re a freak,” he said lightly._

_“I know,” Duke admitted and then, in a soft voice, “Please?”_

_“Fine,” Louis said, hoping it would at least be quick._

_Louis felt good as he and Duke entered the restaurant, holding hands. He didn’t know why he was so distant and cold with Duke sometimes, even when he was doing nothing wrong. Sure, Duke had his flaws, but when he looked at Louis the way he was then-like he was the only man in the world he ever wanted to look at again-Louis remembered how lucky he was._

_“There’s Gemma,” Duke said, and he led Louis over to her. He’d yet to let go of his hand._

_“Hey, Gem,” he called when he was only a few feet away, and the woman turned and smiled from her spot in the front._

_“Hi, Duke!” she said, her eyes roaming almost immediately to Louis. “Is this the boyfriend, finally?”_

_“Yep!” Duke said, smiling at Louis in what almost looked like pride. “This is Louis. Louis, this is Gemma.”_

_The two exchanged pleasant greetings and then Gemma asked if they would like a drink._

_“Can’t,” Duke answered. “We’re only nineteen.”_

_After sighing dramatically, he said,_

_“That’s the only part I hate about living in America.”_

_Duke smiled at Louis. He forced one back, wishing that he found that to be the worst part of living there, too._

_“ **You two** are nineteen,” Gemma said. “I, however, am over twenty-one and not morally above getting drinks for minors.”_

_As she motioned for them to follow her, the boyfriends glanced at each other and then obeyed. Gemma took them backstage, saying hi to all employees as she passed them._

_“Brother!” she called in a sing-song voice, pushing open a dressing room door. From the vanity, a guy with dark, curly hair and wide eyes stopped himself mid-snort and looked up, whipping his head around and wiping his nose as he stared guiltily at the newcomers. Still, the evidence of what he’d been doing was scattered all over his clothes and the vanity._

_Gemma sighed._

_“I don’t support **that** ,” she said, and pulled her brother up by his shirt. She wasn’t rough, but he fell sideways into her anyway, and then smiled again at Duke and Louis._

_“Hi!” he greeted, giving a small wave before rubbing at his nose, aggravated._

_“Harry, this is my mate, Duke, and his boyfriend, Louis. Duke and Louis, this is my brother, Harry, who clearly has his life completely together!”_

_“That would make one of us,” Duke said, letting go of Louis to step forward and shake Harry’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry. Nervous for tonight?”_

_“Not anymore,” Harry said, and then laughed. One of his eyes and his nose twitched._

_Duke laughed, shaking his head along with Gemma, but Louis couldn’t stop staring. He usually didn’t look at someone and suddenly turn into a poet, but he was drawn to Harry, for reasons he couldn’t quite place. His smile was bright and his voice was cheery, but his eyes were dark. It wasn’t the color, because upon taking a couple of steps closer, Louis saw that they were a light shade of green, but Louis felt that they held unspoken stories of horrors he’d seen._

_Or maybe the darkness merely had to do with the fact that his pupils were blown, but Louis didn’t think so._

_“Harry, I just brought Duke and Louis in here for a drink,” Gemma said, speaking to her brother as if he were a small child. Then, she said, “Do you still have that bottle of champagne I gave you?”_

_“Oh, no; I drank that,” Harry said, and laughed again. “Luckily for all of us, people love me, and I received another.”_

_Harry stumbled to the mini refrigerator in the corner (Gemma sucked in her breath as she watched him go) and retrieved a bottle of alcohol from inside, hitting his head on the top of the fridge as he did so. Duke snorted and Louis glared, though his boyfriend didn’t see. He was too busy checking out Harry’s arse._

_“Here ya go!” he exclaimed, standing up and stumbling backwards, though he caught himself before any tragedies occurred._

_“Would you like to do the honors, babe?” Duke asked, nodding to Louis. “You’re a pro.”_

_Louis nodded, taking the bottle from Harry._

_All three watched him intently as he worked on the cork, successfully popping it off in just a few short seconds. They cheered._

_“That was a-mazing!” Harry sang, his voice reminiscing Gemma’s sing-song tone from before. “You get the first drink.”_

_Retrieving a cup from a nearby cabinet, Gemma handed it to Louis and he poured himself a bit of champagne before passing the bottle around._

_“Would anyone like some coke?” Harry asked once they were all settled with drinks._

_“Oh my god, Harry; no!” Gemma exclaimed. “None of us want coke!”_

_Shaking her head at her brother once again, Gemma grabbed Duke’s wrist with her free hand and led him out. They probably assumed Louis would follow, but he stayed behind, staring at Harry as he watched the other two go, frowning. Once the singer realized that there were eyes on him, he looked to Louis and smiled. It wasn’t a real smile._

_“Hi,” he said._

_“Hey,” Louis returned, and then, “Um…I’ll take some coke.”_

_“There you are!” Duke exclaimed when Louis found him nearly twenty minutes later. “I was starting to worry about-”_

_Louis interrupted with a kiss, liking when Duke made a sound of pleasure._

_“Whoa,” he said as they broke apart. “That was…unexpected.”_

_Louis giggled, though his giggles soon turned into a full-blown laugh, which then turned to a snort or two._

_“You are high as fuck,” Duke noted, appearing amused by the fact._

_“Please don’t get mad!” Louis said, his words coming out faster that normal. “Remember how much fun we used to have when we did it back at home? Remember? That’s how we met; at a rave, and both of us were high out of our minds. Remember?”_

_Louis left out the fact that the two had gone to school together for years and that rave was simply the first time Duke noticed him._

_“Yes, yes,” Duke said with a laugh as he played with the back of Louis’s hair for a moment before pulling him against his side. “I remember.”_

_Harry was amazing. Somehow, when he was onstage, there wasn’t any sign that he was under the influence of anything, though Louis supposed that might be because he wasn’t quite in his right mind, either. Still, Harry acted professional and his voice was phenomenal. At the very first note, Duke and Louis had looked at each other, their mouths hanging open, and then looked to Gemma, who smiled with pride._

_Louis wondered what it felt like; to have someone be proud of you._

_“Mate, you are wonderful!” Duke told Harry once his performance had ended and Duke and Louis had joined Gemma backstage again._

_“Thank you,” Harry said, smiling. That smile looked a bit more genuine, and Harry also looked mostly sober._

_His eyes were still dark, Louis noted; even when his pupils weren’t the size of the moon._

_Looking at Louis, Harry asked,_

_“How are you feeling?”_

_“I’m fine,” Louis said, having come down most of the way from his high already. He added,_

_“And Duke was right. You did great!”_

_“Thank you.”_

_Harry smiled at all three of them and then said,_

_“I think we should celebrate!”_

_“No!” Gemma said._

_“Just with a couple of drinks?” Harry asked, sticking out his bottom lip._

_“No,” the woman said. “You’re grounded.”_

_“You can’t ground me,” he said with an amused laugh, but then said,_

_“Alright, well, thank you two for coming! It was really nice meeting you!”_

_“It was lovely meeting you, too,” Duke said, looking surprised as Harry hugged him. Louis felt a bit of jealousy (though he was more jealous of Duke than Harry) until the singer pulled him into a hug as well._

_Despite smelling like sweat and booze, Harry somehow still managed to smell good._

_“Mate, you sure you’re okay?” Harry asked, backing off of Louis but keeping a hold on his shoulders. “Your heart is seriously racing.”_

_“I’m fine,” Louis assured him, trying not to blush. He didn’t think his speeding heart had much to do with the cocaine._

_“You like him!” Duke accused on the drive home. He wasn’t angry; quite the contrary, actually. He looked delighted. Still, Louis said,_

_“Don’t be stupid.”_

_“It’s sooooo obvious!” Duke said, and then, “He is pretty hot though. Hey, maybe he’d be up for a threesome.”_

_Threesomes weren’t something new for the couple, though they’d never done it with someone that Louis had chosen or really even liked before._

_He rolled his eyes, trying not to think about it._

_“Just drive,” he instructed. With a laugh, Duke did what he was told._

***

            “Rough day?” Niall asked as Louis let out a loud sigh before collapsing on the couch next to him and laying his head on his flat mate’s shoulder.

            “I had to see Duke and tattoo Harry,” Louis explained.

            “Had to?” Niall asked. “You couldn’t just tell them to leave and take a right on Fuck Off Street?”

            Louis laughed, some of the tension leaving his body immediately. Niall was good for that.

            Life would be so much easier if Louis really could fall in love with him and forget he’d ever met Harry Styles.

            “Harry’s so hot, though,” he said, a purposeful whine in his voice. “I can’t tell him no, Niall.”

            “Mate, I love you, but you have issues.”

            “I know,” Louis sighed, and then thought to add, “Love you too.”

            The two were silent for a few moments; Louis pretending he was watching whatever ridiculous reality show Niall had playing on TV, and then he said,

            “You have issues too.”

            “Correct,” Niall admitted. “But is there a specific reason you say that?”

            “You don’t like Duke and Harry, but you love me. I’m the one that beat up my husband, remember?”

            “Yeah…,” Niall said, speaking slowly. “I don’t quite believe your story, though.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Niall hesitated before flipping off the TV and turning his body to face Louis. In turn, Louis had to sit up straighter, and he suddenly wished he’d kept his mouth shut so he could fall asleep on Niall’s shoulder and wake up with his pillow and blanket on the couch (courtesy of his flat mate, of course.)

            “I know you got help and people change, but I’ve never seen a violent bone in your body, Lou; not a single one. Then, there’s the way you always flinch when someone touches you…”

            “No, I don’t.”

            “Yeah, you do. Why do you think I never touch you first?”

            “Because you don’t find me as irresistibly sexy as I find you.”

            Niall laughed, shaking his head.

            “Nope,” he said. “That’s not it.”

            “I did beat Duke, though.”

            “I believe that,” Niall said. “I just think there’s more to the story.”

            Louis shrugged and ran a nervous hand through his hair. Sensing that he was uncomfortable and ready to drop the subject, Niall said,

            “Wanna have sex?”

            “Actually,” Louis said with a small laugh, “I think I’m just going to go to bed. Rain check?”

            “Fine,” Niall sighed.

            “Sorry, bud,” Louis said, and patted Niall’s crotch as he stood. Niall sucked in a breath.

            “I hate you, Tomlinson.”

            Louis smiled, knowing that he was kidding.

            It was nice, he thought, to have someone who he could be his natural, teasing self around, who wouldn’t take advantage the second he caught Louis in a moment of weakness.

            Still, even though Louis trusted Niall one hundred percent (or at least ninety-nine), he locked the door before going to bed.

 

            “Good morning, Zayn!”

            “Morning,” Zayn sighed, and Louis raised an eyebrow. His friend was sitting behind the counter of his tattoo parlor, his cheek rested on his hand and an expression on his face like his puppy just died.

            “Why the long face?” Louis asked, going around the counter to plop in the chair next to him. “Wasn’t just yesterday a beautiful day?”

            “Yeah, _yesterday_ ,” Zayn said.

            “What happened?”

            “Well,” Zayn sighed, sitting up for an instant before returning to his previous position, “I have good news and bad news.”

            “Bad news first, please,” Louis requested.

            “No, I have to tell you the good news first,” Zayn insisted.

            “Why?”

            “Because it ties into the bad news.”

            “Okay. Let me brace myself.”

            Louis closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Zayn took that as an opportunity to punch him in the shoulder gently.

            Niall was right; he did flinch.

            “Alright, alright,” Louis said. “I’m ready.”

            Zayn sighed, seeming like the subject physically pained him to talk about.

            “Liam left a review on the shop’s Facebook page, like he promised, so, naturally, I took that as an opportunity to stalk him.”

            “Naturally.”

            “I discovered something.”

            “As you are supposed to do. What did you discover?”

            “He’s definitely on the homosexual spectrum somewhere,” Zayn said.

            “But…?”

            “But I think he has a boyfriend.”

            “You _think_?”

            “Yeah. Cuz, like, his profile picture is just him and he hasn’t posted anything about a boyfriend in the last seven months-”

            “Seven months? Jesus, Zayn.”

            “-but his previous profile picture was with a guy who was all shirtless and bulk and kissing his cheek.”

            “Sounds like they broke up to me,” Louis said.

            “I don’t know. Why would he still have the picture up, then?”

            “Does anyone ever delete profile pictures?”

            Zayn ignored the question.

            “And I can’t see his relationship status without adding him.”

            “Yep, definitely sounds like they broke up,” Louis said. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

            “I do, though!” Zayn insisted, throwing his hands in the air frantically. “That guy in the picture looks nothing like me! I’m not his type!”

            “Maybe he doesn’t have a type,” Louis said. “Or that guy wasn’t his type and that’s why they broke up.”

            “It’s hopeless,” Zayn sighed, slamming his head on the counter. Louis patted his back, holding in his comment about how he was unaware they were in a teen drama until that point.

            And just like a teen drama, with perfect, timing, in stepped Liam. He was smiling, and about to say his good morning greetings to Zayn and Louis when he saw Zayn’s current state. Liam looked at Louis worriedly.

            “It’s been a rough day,” Louis explained, still patting Zayn’s back and trying not to smile too wide.

            “Do we have a client?” Zayn asked, still not raising his head.

            “Yes, Zayn,” Louis answered. “That is what the bell above our door signals.”

            “I didn’t hear it. It’s very loud.”

            The shop was nearly dead silent, which told Louis that the loudness was coming from Zayn’s head, but Liam saved him from trying to come up with a quirky response by asking, sympathetically,

            “Migraine?”

            Louis nodded, making sure to keep his expression solemn.

            “I have some over-the-counter migraine medicine in my car, actually,” Liam said, seeming to perk up at the thought. “Do you want me to go get it?”

            “Um…let me see..”

            Louis trailed off, nudging Zayn on the shoulder.

            “Hm?” the man whined.

 _Man, are you really going to hate yourself in a minute_ , Louis thought.

            “Hey, do you want Liam to go out and get you some headache medicine from his car?”

            “…Who?”

            “Liam.”

            Louis hadn’t even finished saying the name when Zayn sat up, running his hands over his face and through his hair quickly, and then doing his best to smile.

            “Oh. Hey,” he said nonchalantly.

Louis felt bad for the guy, he really did, but it still took everything he had in him not to roll his eyes.

            “Hey,” Liam said, still with the sympathetic frown and tone.

            “Liam has medicine that will help your migraine,” Louis said again, now that Zayn was more present. He frowned, confused for a moment, but pulled himself together quickly.

            “You do?!” he asked, like that was the best news in the world. Liam nodded.

            “They spring up on me, always at the worst possible time, so I just keep some on me all the time now.”

            “I don’t want to take your medicine if you’re going to need it…,” Zayn said, looking to Louis for help. Unfortunately for him, Louis was at a dead end.

            “Oh, I have plenty,” Liam said. “It’s really no trouble.”

            “Why don’t you walk out there with him, Z?” Louis suggested. “Fresh air might help. It smells quite a bit like ink in here.”

            “Yeah,” Zayn agreed, standing and pulling his sunglasses from his pocket. To Liam, he said, “If you don’t mind, of course.”

            “Not at all!” Liam said, a little over-eagerly, in Louis’s opinion.

            “Oh, yeah, Lou,” Zayn said when he was almost to the door, which Liam was holding open for him. “Some bloke came by for you a few minutes before you got here. He left an envelope for you. I put it in your book.”

            “What did he look like?” Louis asked, dread forming in the pit of his stomach.

            “Tall, skinny, dark hair, huge dimples…”

            “Harry,” Louis sighed in relief. The relief only lasted a moment though, because why in the world would Harry have been there for him when he despised his existence?

            “I don’t think he gave me a name, actually,” Zayn said. “He was kinda cute, though. Is there something I should know?”

            “That he’s dating my ex-husband,” Louis answered.

            “Oh…never mind.”

            “I can still put in a good word for you if you want, though, Zaynie.”

            “That’s okay,” Zayn said. “He’s not really my type.”

            “Oh? And what is your type?”

            “I like ‘em a bit buffer. You know, when they look like they could have been the typical American high school jock, but they’re super sweet and kind of nerdy, in a way. Tattoos are good too, of course.”

            “Wow. Specific,” Louis said while almost literally watching the gears in Liam’s head turn, trying to figure out if he was Zayn’s ‘type.’

            “It’s good to know what you want in life, Louis,” Zayn said, and then finally stepped outside, thanking Liam for holding the door for him.    

Louis watched the men walk to Liam’s car-a slightly beat-up red Dodge-and he smiled to himself, but that faded quickly. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous over the mysterious envelope that Harry had left him, but his heart was beating fast as he opened his book. The envelope fell out onto the counter, and Louis’s nerves only grew when he saw his name written on the front in Harry’s messy scrawl.

            Perhaps he’d forgotten to take his anxiety pill that morning.

            Inside the envelope was money; two hundred dollars, to be exact. Louis didn’t know why, but suddenly, he felt dirty.

            Glancing outside, Louis saw Zayn and Liam sitting in Liam’s car. Both men were smoking a cigarette and Liam was laughing at something that Zayn was saying, so it looked like it would be a while before either came back in.

            Pulling his phone out from his back pocket, Louis hesitated when he found Harry’s number in his contacts. He wasn’t even sure that Harry had the same number, but if he did, there was no saying that he’d kept Louis’s. (Of course, there was probably a better chance that he would answer for an unknown number than he would for his arch enemy, so maybe that would be a good thing.)

            Whether or not Harry answered was really the least of Louis’s concerns, though.

            Unless he was on a lunch break, Duke should have been at work, but what if he wasn’t? Louis knew firsthand how upset the man could get when his significant other was talking to someone else, even if it was innocent.

Maybe he wasn’t like that with Harry. After all, Harry still had a big personality and a whole lot of spunk; both of which Louis lost quickly while involved with Duke.

            But, just in case, Louis didn’t want to be the reason Harry got hurt, so he decided he would go to Harry and Duke’s place instead. If worse came to worst, he could simply pretend he was there to see his ex-husband.

            It seemed to be forever until Zayn came back into the shop, and under normal circumstances, Louis would be happy for him, but right now all he could think about was leaving before he got stuck with a walk-in that could potentially take all day.

            Finally, Zayn entered, sans Liam, but with a big smile on his face. Louis wanted to ask questions and he would…later.

            “Hey, Z, do you care if I run an errand really quick?” he asked before the door to the shop had even closed.

            “No, that’s fine,” Zayn said, sighing dreamily as he reclaimed his chair behind the counter. Louis stood, but then remembered what his friend had said earlier; about how loud it was.

            “Are you sure you’ll be good?” he asked, nervously folding and unfolding the envelope containing Harry’s money.

            “Yeah, I’m sure,” Zayn replied, and then truly looked at Louis for the first time since he’d come back inside. “Are _you_ okay, mate?”

            “Mhm,” Louis answered with a nod. “I won’t be long.”

            “Alright…,” Zayn said, looking between his friend and the envelope unsurely. Louis offered the best smile he could in that moment and left the shop.

            Even with all the logical reasons he had for going to the house, Louis wondered if it was mainly his tendency of self-harm that had taken him to see Harry. It didn’t feel good when Harry looked at him like he was the scum of the Earth; it actually felt awful, but that didn’t stop Louis from wanting to look at _Harry._

            Worse than the permanent scowl that seemed to be etched on Harry’s face whenever he was around Louis was the way he spoke to him. His tone was cold and sharp; his words even more so sometimes.

            Niall told Louis that he didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and whether that was true or not, Louis didn’t really care. He was drawn to Harry anyway, and he knew he would put up with whatever the man made him go through.

            Slowly, Louis was coming to the realization that he hadn’t really changed at all, and that alone made him seriously contemplate driving his car onto the wrong side of the highway. If he could guarantee that no one else would be hurt, he probably would have done it, but since the possibility of Louis being the only injured party under such circumstances were so small, he had to come to terms with the fact that he probably wouldn’t die on that particular day.

            Oh well. Perhaps tomorrow.

            For a few moments, Louis thought that nobody was at his ex-husband’s residence. Unsure of whether to be happy or disappointed by the fact, Louis was just about to walk away when the door opened and there stood Harry, giving him _that_ look. Louis’s heart pounded in both a wonderful and painful way.

            “Hey,” Louis said, unable to keep from smiling.

            “What are you doing here?” Harry asked, and it took Louis a moment to remember the answer to that question.

            “Um…oh! Here.”

            Pulling the envelope out from his back pocket, Louis held it out for the other man to take, but Harry simply crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

            “It’s for the tattoo,” he explained like Louis was stupid.

            “I figured,” Louis said, “but I told Duke I would do it for free, so…”

            “You were going to do our couple’s tattoo for free,” Harry stated. “Not the butterfly.”

            “Well, you didn’t get a couple’s tattoo, so, really, you saved me time and money from only having to do one.”

            After a pause, Louis said,

            “I don’t want the money.”

            “Neither do I,” Harry said. “I’m not taking anything from you.”

            “Come on, Harry. It’s really no big deal,” Louis told him. His arm, still extended, was starting to grow numb. “Friends and family are always free anyway.”

            “We’re not friends, Louis.”

            Louis had known that was a bad choice of words as soon as they’d come out of his mouth, but that didn’t stop what Harry said from stinging.

            “I know we’re not,” he said, glad his voice was strong when his emotions weren’t. “But we _were_ , so-”

            “We were never friends,” Harry interrupted. “We were just a couple of fucked up guys who got drunk and high together so we wouldn’t have to do it alone. I didn’t know who you really were, and you definitely don’t know anything about me. Just take the god damn money and leave.”

            Many things popped into Louis’s head of which he could say to Harry. The first, naturally, was to call him an arse. The second was to ask why he saved his life if they weren’t even friends, and the third was to tell him that he couldn’t rewrite their past even if he hated him now. There had been one time that he’d told Louis he loved him, and even though he never loved him in the same way as Louis did him, he’d cared for him.

            But Louis knew his voice wouldn’t be strong if he spoke again, so instead of saying anything, he simply dropped the envelope on the front porch step, turned on his heel and walked away. As much as it tore at him, he didn’t turn around to see if Harry was watching or had closed the door already; glad that he was gone. He was sure that he didn’t want to know.

            “Good after-Oh, hey Louis; what happened?”

            “Nothing,” Louis lied to Zayn, his breaths coming out shallow. So far, he hadn’t cried even a tear, but a full tsunami was close, and Louis needed a distraction. “How did it go with Liam?”

            “Fine,” Zayn said, his frown deep. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Where did you go?”

            “I don’t want to talk about it,” Louis said quickly. His voice was turning thick. “Tattoo me, Zayn; please.”

            “Lou…”

            “Please!” Louis begged, and Zayn sighed.

            “Okay,” he said. “Where do you want it?”

            “Wherever it will hurt the most.”

***

            _“Holy shit, Lou! What happened?!”_

_“Some homophobe downtown; he saw my rainbow bracelet and decided that I wanted to do him, so, naturally, the only way to show me that I couldn’t have him was to beat me up.”_

_It wasn’t true, of course, but Louis had spent the entire drive over to Harry’s coming up with his excuse, and it was a pretty good one, in his opinion. Harry seemed to agree because the worry that had been on his face turned to anger and he shook his head in disgust._

_“Fucking maggot,” he said. “Come in. I’ll get you some ice.”_

_Obediently, Louis stepped inside and followed Harry to the kitchen._

_It had been four months since Louis had met Harry, and while a threesome had yet to happen, he and Duke had seen a lot of him. Louis had seen more of Harry than Duke had, unbeknownst to his boyfriend, because he would go over and help Harry with his music sometimes. If Harry couldn’t get a line in a song just right, Louis would throw some suggestions at him and, most of the time, Harry would use one. Whenever Harry was playing the guitar and needed someone on piano, or vice versa, Louis took over the instrument. Those sessions with Harry were pretty much the only times Louis willingly got out of bed._

_“Here,” Harry said, handing two paper towels with ice to Louis, “one for your cheek and one for your lip.”_

_“Thanks,” Louis said, wincing as he applied the ice to his injured face. Harry watched him sadly, and Louis noted that his eyes weren’t blood shot at all._

_“Do you want me to call Duke?” Harry asked._

_“No,” Louis replied quickly. “He’s home today because he’s not feeling well. I was running errands for him when…this happened, and I don’t want him to see it yet. He’ll freak out.”_

_“Rightfully so,” Harry said._

_“It’s not that bad.”_

_“Bad enough. I’ll pummel the bloke myself if you know where to find him.”_

_“Unfortunately, I don’t,” Louis said with a mild laugh, which caused his lip to bleed more, but it was worth it._

_“You didn’t take your bracelet off because of him, did you?” Harry asked, and Louis realized that his perfect excuse had one flaw; he hadn’t actually seen his rainbow bracelet in months._

_“No,” Louis said. “He took it.”_

_Harry made a noise of disgust and shook his head again._

_“I’m sorry that happened to you, Louis.”_

_Louis shrugged._

_“I’m not the first and, sadly, I won’t be the last.”_

_Harry studied Louis; the same, sad look on his face as before, and then he said,_

_“I’m going to go get some antibacterial ointment for your lip. Don’t go anywhere.”_

_“I wouldn’t dream of it.”_

_Finally, a smile briefly touched the singer’s face._

_“You’re truly something, Lou,” he said._

_“Is that a good thing?” Louis asked._

_“Yeah,” Harry replied after pretending to think for a moment. His smile grew, perfectly showcasing his dimples. “You’re definitely a good one.”_

           


	5. Chapter 5

***Harry***

            _Harry’s head pounded as he worked through his double vision and throbbing face to find his phone. It was only when he finally found it that he almost started to cry. He didn’t want to do this; didn’t want to tell somebody that he’d been wrong again; that he’d fallen for a bad guy **again.**_

 **** _Gemma always teased that Harry would end up with a serial killer, but the joke became less funny the more likely it seemed._

_His sister was the first person Harry thought to call. She disapproved of many of his choices, and she was mad at him more often than not, but Harry knew she loved him and would help him out of his most recent Hell, like she did every time. It was just natural instinct for him to turn to Gemma when everything was falling apart._

_This time, he stopped himself; staring at her name in his contacts as if he were suddenly forbidden to use it. The night was late, and, given that she had work the next morning, the woman was probably asleep, but that wasn’t what made Harry hesitate. Pride stopped him, or something like it._

_Gemma had never liked this most recent boyfriend of Harry’s, which wasn’t a shock since she never truly liked any of them, but her dislike for the newest man went beyond that of any before. Harry didn’t know why. Yes, his boyfriend had a past with many of the same demons as Harry, but if Gemma loved her brother despite all of his rough edges, why had it been so different with the man Harry loved?_

_Whenever Harry asked, she would say it was just a ‘gut feeling,’ and there was something ‘not sincere’ about the man. That wasn’t a good enough reason for Harry, so he chalked it up to his sister being paranoid and over-protective, and he kept seeing the man anyway._

_And now here he was; concussed and probably bruised in more areas than he could count._

_Gemma would find out what happened to Harry, and he knew it would probably be sooner rather than later, but for the night, he wanted to avoid the disappointed look she gave him along with the inaccurate words about how he deserved better. He didn’t want to see her tears tonight._

_Harry’s next thought was to call Louis. The pair had grown quite close in the couple of years that they’d known each other. A lot of their friendship consisted on getting drunk and high together, and Harry appreciated that he had someone safe he could feed his demons around, but he thought the few sober moments they shared were his favorites. He loved when Louis would come help him with his music, or when Harry would force him to go shopping and Louis would tell him he looked good in everything when he truly didn’t look good in anything. He also liked the times Louis would go to his house and simply fall asleep, as if he hadn’t slept for days, because at least Harry wasn’t alone._

_But then Harry remembered that all that had been a lie. Louis **wasn’t** safe. He’d done to his husband what nearly all of Harry’s boyfriends had done to him. (How Harry couldn’t see the signs, even in someone he wasn’t romantically invested in, he didn’t know.)_

_Though he knew it was selfish of him, it still hurt Harry to think about the moment he found out what Louis had done. He had no reason to feel that way. After all, Louis hadn’t done anything to **him**. But it was further evidence to Harry that he would be stuck in the same trap forever; that he would keep falling for violent men that only liked to cause pain._

_Duke’s name was right above Louis’s in Harry’s contacts, so, feeling as if he were mere minutes away from passing out, and his lover had insisted he be gone by the time he got back from wherever he’d run off to after his break down, Harry called him instead._

_Harry’s idea had simply been to have Duke take him someplace he could spend the night, but upon seeing the state of Harry’s face-and the fact that he was tripping every few steps he took-Duke decided to take him to the hospital instead. It was a waste of time, since all the hospital would do was tell him to rest for the concussion and give him some ointment and bandages for his face, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, being the selfish person that he was, he hadn’t thought about how difficult it would probably be for the man to see someone in the same condition he’d been in many times._

_“Please tell me you’re not going back,” Duke asked Harry once they had finally left the hospital (Harry told them he’d been riding his bike when he hit something in the middle of the street and was thrown off)._

_“I have to talk to Matthew tomorrow,” Harry said, because he wasn’t going to lie and say he was definitely done with the man, even though he knew he should be._

_“No,” Duke said, his voice harsh. Harry went to raise an eyebrow, but that hurt, so instead, he closed his eyes._

_“Harry?” the other man asked._

_“Hm?” Harry groaned, mainly to let his rescuer know that he was still conscious. Duke continued,_

_“You’re not going back.”_

_“I love him,” Harry said, not caring if it was pathetic. Surely, Duke of all people would understand._

_That was why Harry thought he could have been a little nicer when he said,_

_“Well, he doesn’t love you.”_

_“He does,” Harry insisted. “He’s just got issues.”_

_“That’s the excuse I gave over and over to stay,” Duke said, and it took Harry a minute to realize he was talking about his own situation with Louis. His heart gave a painful thump._

_“But if he can do that to you, he doesn’t love you, Harry,” Duke went on. “I’m sorry to say that, but it’s true.”_

_Harry only sighed. When Duke touched his leg a moment later, he jumped; his eyes flying open, which was also painful._

_“Sorry,” Duke said, giving Harry a sympathetic look. They’d reached his house, but after turning the car off, he gave no indication of getting out._

_“I don’t know how to live on my own,” Harry admitted, hating himself more in that moment than ever._

_“You don’t have to,” Duke said. “I get where you’re coming from. Honestly, I sometimes want to ask Louis to come back home, just so it’s not so quiet and lonely in this place. But I know I didn’t deserve what he put me through, and you don’t deserve any of the shit that’s happened to you, either.”_

_Harry bit the insides of his cheeks. That was exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Sure, some people just fell into bad circumstances and were given hardships they didn’t deserve, but with how many times it had happened to Harry, he didn’t believe that at least some of it wasn’t deserved. It was all easier to deal with when he told himself that he’d done something to warrant his pain than when he tried to believe he was innocent and unlucky._

_“You can stay with me as long as you need to,” Duke said when he was met only with silence. “I think it will be good for us both.”_

_“You’re going to get tired of me,” Harry said._

_“I won’t,” Duke insisted. “You really don’t get how wonderful you are, Harry, and I understand why. No one has ever shown you. Give me a chance to try?”_

***

            “Are you okay?”

            Harry held in a sigh, also biting back his remark about how _of course_ he wasn’t okay, and why did they have to keep doing this when Duke knew how it made him feel?

            Technically, Harry wasn’t a prostitute anymore. He went on dates for money, but sex was never promised, and when they did partake in such activities, Harry never accepted more money for it. If it was up to Harry, sex would never happen in the first place, but Duke quite enjoyed threesomes, and Harry’s occupation was a golden opportunity to find them quick and easy.

            “Yeah, I’m okay.”

            Harry sat up, finally letting out his sigh as he ran a hand through his hair and looked around at the grungy room in the motel that their ménage a trois usually took place in.

            Duke reached over to squeeze his shoulder.

            “I’m not sure I liked him,” he said. “He was a bit possessive of you.”

            “He liked my butterfly tattoo,” Harry replied with a smirk, even though he’d nearly cringed every time their latest temporary lover had kissed the area surrounding the healing tattoo.

            Duke narrowed his eyes, but it only lasted a moment before he laughed and sat up to kiss his boyfriend.

            “I like the tattoo now,” he said. “It’s grown on me quite a bit.”

            Harry hummed noncommittally and kissed his boyfriend as well, then stood and began to get dressed.

            “We’re leaving?” Duke guessed.

            “Yeah,” Harry said. “I’m tired and I have to be at work early tomorrow.”

            By ‘work’ Harry meant his other job; the one that he could admit to his sister he had, and which didn’t make him feel like a whore.

            Besides being an escort (only of sorts), Harry worked as a receptionist at a salon; the salon Louis’s sister worked at and managed. Duke, of course, had gotten him the job, but he didn’t mind. There had been a time where Harry had considered being a cosmetologist, but his various addictions made it too hard to focus on things such as schooling.

            “Alright, babe; anything you say,” Duke commented, slapping Harry’s still-naked bottom as he got out of bed in search for his own clothes. Harry sucked in a breath.

            “Ow, you arse; that hurt.”

            Duke giggled, blew a kiss and headed into the bathroom to change; probably so Harry couldn’t get revenge.

            Luckily for Harry, he’d made the mistake of leaving his keys in the top dresser drawer, and Harry quickly left without him, humming to himself proudly on the drive home.

***Louis***

            When Louis woke to someone shaking him roughly by the shoulder, his shout was nearly loud enough to scare the birds out of the tree beside his bedroom window.

            “Jesus!” Niall gasped, backing off Louis and clutching at his own heart. “Sorry, mate; I was just making sure you were still alive.”

            “What’s happening?” Louis asked, his brain not fully awake yet, even though his heart threatened to beat right out of his chest.

            “Do you remember _anything_ about last night?” Niall asked, studying Louis’s face nervously.

            “Um…”

            Louis trailed off, sighing as he rubbed his hands over his face, as if that could make his headache go away.

            “Not really,” he admitted to Niall and then, not sure he wanted to remember, he asked, “What time is it?”

            “Two o’ clock.”

            “In the afternoon?!”

            “Yes…”

            “Shit!”

            Louis threw the sheet off his body and jumped out of bed, which wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had. Thankfully, he managed to avoid any tragedies, and he moved a bit slower as he went to his dresser for some clothes.

            “What are you doing?” Niall asked.

            “I was supposed to be at the shop, like, two hours ago,” Louis explained, and Niall snorted.

            “I’m pretty sure Zayn concluded that you wouldn’t be coming in today when he had to drag your arse upstairs and into bed,” he said, causing Louis’s anxiety to rise. Finally, he had to ask,

            “So what all _did_ happen last night?”

            “Well, you got shit-faced-”

            “Yes, that much I know.”

            “-and fell asleep literally on top of a bar, so Zayn drove you home. He stayed until about five in the morning to make sure you were okay, and then I took over.”

            “He’s got to be so pissed at me,” Louis sighed, leaning against his dresser and squeezing the bridge of his nose.

            “I doubt it,” Niall said, and when Louis looked at him, he looked confused. “He understands what happened, and he doesn’t blame you, but, like me, he’s just wondering why you let a couple of dick heads get under your skin so much.”

            “Harry isn’t a dick head,” Louis said, sitting down in the hopes that the room would stop spinning and Niall’s voice wouldn’t sound so far away anymore.

            “To each his own,” Niall said. “Anyway, I’m going to make you a greasy burger. Why don’t you just get back in bed?”

            The word ‘burger’ nearly made Louis gag, but he shook his head, holding tight to the side of the dresser as he rose to his feet again.

            “I need to get to the shop,” he said. “Zayn was having a bad day yesterday and he shouldn’t be alone.”

            “He’s not going to be alone,” Niall said. “That bloke he likes is going into the shop so they can plan out his sister’s surprise tattoo for her birthday.”

            “He didn’t tell me that,” Louis said, feeling a bit betrayed by the fact.

            “He probably didn’t want to tell you something good that’s happening in his life when you were obviously not having much go right in your own.”

            That was a good point, but Louis still wasn’t happy with Zayn thinking he couldn’t share his own joys just because Louis was a mess.

            With a sigh, Louis asked,

            “Can I still get that burger, please?”

            “Coming right up. By the way, please take a shower. You smell like a terrible mixture of whiskey and tequila.”

            “Rude,” Louis joked, knowing it had to be true given that he felt like a terrible mixture of whiskey and tequila as well.

            “I still love you,” Niall said.

            “Aw.”

            “But I’ll love you more if you shower.”

            “Oi, I can’t wait for tomorrow so you can go to work.”

            Niall, a math teacher at the local high school, smiled.

            “Maybe I’ll play hooky tomorrow so I can pester you all day!”

            Louis made a noise of disgust and Niall laughed. The tattoo shop was closed on Mondays, and little did Niall know that Louis stayed in bed all day, either eating junk food or nothing at all, and hid the evidence of binges right before Niall got home. Sometimes, he showered, if he was in need of extra attention from his flat mate that night.

            Feeling too gross to not shower that day, no matter how much he didn’t want to, Louis freshened up and changed into a clean pair of joggers and a t-shirt before heading downstairs, where Niall was finishing up his burger.

            “Here; while you wait,” Niall said once he saw Louis, handing him a bottle of Gatorade and some pain killers.

            “You’re awesome,” Louis said, kissing Niall on the cheek.

            “At least someone recognizes that,” Niall said.

            “Lots of people know you’re awesome,” Louis said. “I’m sure you would have company over all the time if you didn’t live with a psychopath.”

            “Guess it’s a good thing I like my little psychopath a whole lot, then.”

            “Little,” Louis repeated, pretending to scoff. “I’m taller than you.”

            “No, you’re not.”

            “Yeah, I am.”

            “Nu-uh.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            Niall switched off the stove and waited until he turned around to roll his eyes, so that Louis could see he did so.

            “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lou Boo.”

            “That’s what I thought.”

            “Would you like anything with your burger, sassy?”

            “Ugh, no thanks. It’s going to be a miracle if I can get this down.”

            “Don’t puke on my table, please and thanks.”

            “I’ll do my best.”

            Niall placed the food in front of Louis, who wrinkled his nose at it before taking a timid bite. It was then that his stomach growled, apparently realizing just how much it needed the nourishment.

            “I love you,” Louis sighed, content.

            “Are you talking to me or the burger?” Niall asked.

            “Either. Both.”

            “Movie marathon day?” Niall asked, sounding hopeful.

            “Mhm,” Louis hummed, his mouth too full of food to even try and speak.

His phone dinged, signaling that he had a text, and Louis was at first concerned when he saw that it was from his sister-she typically didn’t text him unless it was an emergency-but relaxed when he read the message.

            _Hey, sorry I’m just getting back to you. I’m open for the rest of the day if you want me to cut your hair._

It took Louis a moment to remember that he’d sent his sister a message nearly two weeks ago asking her to cut his hair.

            Pushing all bitter remarks away, Louis replied,

            _Ok, thanks, see you in a bit._

            To Niall, Louis said,

            “We’ll have a movie marathon after I get my hair cut.”

            Not fooled for even a second, Niall narrowed his eyes. Still, Louis decided to play dumb.

            “What?” he asked, blinking his eyelashes while taking a large bite of his burger.

            “Who’s going to cut your hair?” Niall returned. His mouth full yet again, Louis shrugged. Niall took that as an opportunity to answer his own question.

            “Lottie is cutting your hair,” he stated matter-of-factly, “which is great, considering Harry works there and you just had a complete mental breakdown last night over seeing him.”

            “The past is in the past,” Louis said after swallowing his food and taking a large swig of Gatorade.

            “You still have the hangover. It’s not quite the past yet,” Niall said.

            “Actually, I’m feeling much better now,” Louis informed him, jumping down from his chair with his burger only half gone. “You can finish that. I’m going to go change and head out.”

            “You break my heart, Lou,” Niall said, and it alarmingly did not sound like he was joking. Louis decided to treat it as such still and said,

            “Better your heart than your nose, right?”

 

            “Good aftern-Oh, hi, Louis.”

            “Hey, Harry,” Louis said, surprised that Harry didn’t look nearly as disgusted as he thought he would have once he realized who he’d just so politely greeted. He’d even almost given a tiny smile before realizing what he was doing and looking at his computer screen.

            “Lottie will be with you in a minute,” he said. “She just got a walk-in.”

            “That’s fine. Thanks,” Louis said. Harry didn’t reply, and Louis sat in the chair in the farthest corner, picking at his jeans as Harry typed away at the computer; probably only pretending to be busy.

            Knowing that he should quit while he was ahead and keep his mouth shut, Louis cleared his throat and then asked,

            “How is your tattoo doing?”

            “It’s fine,” Harry answered.

            “Good.”

            Silence fell between them again, but that wasn’t so bad. It was awkward as all get out, but Harry didn’t sound like he’d been talking to the bane of his entire existence, so Louis would almost even say their mini-conversation had gone well.

            After a few minutes, a man with a freshly shaven head came to the front, paid Harry and left. It was amazing to Louis, seeing how quickly Harry’s face and tone of voice morphed from expressionless to bubbly in the matter of a millisecond, though he supposed he should have been used to the transition by now.

            “Okay, Lou,” Lottie called from somewhere in the back of the salon. Louis heard her voice before he saw her, but then she emerged around the corner and managed to smile at her brother. “I’m ready.”

            Louis stood and after debating whether to say something to Harry or not- and subsequently deciding against it-he followed Lottie to the chair she led him to.

            As usual, conversation with his sister was polite, yet strained, but Louis was happy with the fact that she could touch him now without looking scared for her life, or that she cared enough again to ask how he was doing, even if he still felt he had to lie and say he was fine even if he wasn’t.

            After she’d finished his hair, the two said goodbye. Lottie hurried away before Louis could think to hug her, but he understood. If he found out she had been beating Ricky for the duration of their relationship, he probably wouldn’t be too fond of her either.

            Louis almost told Lottie the truth; that he’d only hurt Duke out of self-defense that one single time, but, like always, he stopped himself. At this point, most people weren’t likely to believe him and even if they did, they would probably be angry at him still, for lying in the first place.

            Once his sister had gone to the back room and was out of sight, Louis made his way to the front of the salon, stopping in front of the reception desk. Harry was entering something in the computer, but when he’d finished, he looked at Louis and raised an eyebrow.

            “Can I help you?” he asked, not too kindly.

            “I’m just trying to pay,” Louis said, his own voice small. Harry’s eyebrow went further into his hairline.

            “Lottie never charges you,” he said.

            “I know, but maybe it’s different this time.”

            “Nope. You’re good.”

            “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

            Louis turned slowly, hoping Harry would say something else; something friendlier, but he didn’t utter another word until Louis had taken a couple defeated steps.

            “Actually, Louis; wait. I have something for you.”

            Louis stopped and turned, curiously walking back to the counter as Harry dug around in a drawer. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and handed the envelope to Louis before the other man could comprehend what it was.

            Louis narrowed his eyes. Harry smiled mischievously.

            “I don’t want your money, Harry,” Louis said.

            “Too bad,” Harry replied. “You accepted it from my hands. I win.”

            “Hm…I’ll let you think that for now.”

            Harry’s smile grew, and Louis smiled too, his heart skipping happily at the fact that he’d had a bit to do with the momentary happiness on Harry’s face.

            “See ya, Harry.”

            “Bye, Louis.”

            Louis’s smile stayed for most of his drive home.

            That night, he would have a movie marathon with Niall, but the next day-Monday-would be his first Monday leaving the house in a long time. He had some errands to run.

 

            When Harry barged into the shop on Tuesday, Louis smiled. He’d been expecting him.

            “Hello…Harry, I think it is,” Zayn greeted, shooting a worried and displeased glance at Louis.

            “Yes. Hi,” Harry said, waving off-handedly to Zayn before stopping at the counter in front of Louis, his hands on the wood surface.

            “Is there a problem?” Louis asked, feigning innocence.

            “Do you just so happen to be responsible for the shitload of Twix bars I found on my porch step this morning?” Harry returned.

            “Maybe,” Louis answered. “Would you say there’s about two hundred dollars worth?”

            Harry glared. Louis laughed out loud.

            “I win,” he said.

            “You’re a little shit,” Harry replied.

            “It’s your favorite candy, is it not?”

            “Yes, but my waistline does not need it.”

            “I think your waistline is fine.”

            Harry paused, looking taken aback by Louis’s words, but he quickly rid the shock on his face.

            “Fine. If you want to waste your money on candy that I won’t eat, that’s your business,” he said to Louis.

            “That’s exactly how I wanted to spend your money,” Louis replied. Harry rolled his eyes, but Louis could tell he was still fighting off a grin.

            “Your issues go much deeper than I first imagined,” Harry said, and perhaps Louis should have been offended, but he wasn’t. He laughed again.

            “Don’t worry; I tend to keep surprising myself as well.”

            Harry shook his head, and then finally had to give in to just a small laugh.

            “How many stores did you have to go to in order to find them all?”

            “I lost count after the fourth.”

            “You’re ridiculous.”

            “I know.”

            Pushing himself away from the counter, Harry turned towards the door, ruining Louis’s good mood a little.

            It was salvaged a bit when Harry parted with, ‘See you, Lou,’ rather than his typical, cold goodbye. Louis could tell by Harry’s body language the exact moment he realized what he’d done, but he didn’t take it back; simply shook his head at himself and continued heading for the door.

            “See you around, Harry!” Louis called after him. “And you’re welcome for the candy!”

            Harry waved Louis off, and the tattooist giggled as he watched the man exit the shop.

            Once the door was closed and Harry was halfway to his car, Louis sighed and rested his head on Zayn’s shoulder.

            “I love him,” he said.

            “You love _him_?!” Zayn asked, sounding appalled by the statement. “You love the guy you just had a meltdown over a few nights ago?”

            “Yes.”

            “I don’t approve.”

            “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

            Louis heard Zayn’s disappointed sigh, but he pulled Louis closer anyway, rubbing his shoulder while Louis stared out the window, watching Harry drive away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, we're getting to the part where things will start going a little quicker and more will be answered! Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read :)


	6. Chapter 6

            “So, you get to meet the family today. That’s exciting.”

            Zayn rolled his eyes, but Louis didn’t miss the slightly pink tone his face took on.

            “I’m not meeting the whole family. I’m meeting his sister to give her a tattoo.”

            “You know he’s totally bringing his sister in here for a tattoo because he wants her to meet you, though…Right?”

            “That’s not it at all,” Zayn argued. “All he knows is that I’ve given him all of his tattoos and he’s liked them, so it would be common sense to bring his sister to an artist he trusts.”

            “Uh-huh. And an artist he thinks is cute and wants to penetrate.”

            “I wish,” Zayn sighed.

            “I’m telling you, mate; he does.”

            “If that was true, he would have made his move by now. I straight up said I like guys in front of him and described him as my type, and nothing. He’s not interested.”

            “Hey, Zayn?”

            “What?”

            “No offense to Liam or anything, but if he _looks_ like a stereotypical American jock, maybe he kind of has the brains of a stereotypical American jock.”

            Even though Louis had said ‘no offense,’ he guessed Zayn took offense to his words because his mouth dropped open like Louis had just bad-mouthed his mother.

            “Did you just call my precious Liam stupid?”

            “No, no. That’s not what I said,” Louis defended himself quickly. “I’m sure he’s not stupid, just a little…clueless.”

            “That’s the same thing.”

            “No, it’s not.”

            Zayn didn’t say another word; just kept giving Louis a dirty look, so Louis sighed and tried to right the matter.

            “Look, I think it’s obvious that he likes you, but you don’t see it. And I know it’s obvious you like him, so maybe he doesn’t see that either.”

            “He should just assume _everyone_ likes him,” Zayn said. “He’s fucking hot as Hell.”

            “Maybe he doesn’t think so.”

            Zayn looked up, a sad expression taking over the angry one.

            “That’s depressing,” he said. “How could someone so gorgeous not realize how good looking they are?”

            “I don’t know,” Louis said, with Harry at the forefront of his mind. Of course, Harry was usually at the forefront of his mind, even when he hadn’t seen him for a few days.

            Louis knew it was stupid and kind of sad that he longed to see Harry when doing so usually resulted in pain, but he was the one to stay in an abusive relationship for four years too long, so he supposed it also wasn’t too surprising.

            “Lou, this could be it,” Zayn said, his voice shaking a little.

            “What are you talking about?” Louis asked, snapping himself out of the pity party he’d begun to inwardly throw for himself.

            “If Liam’s sister doesn’t like me, then even if Liam _is_ interested, he won’t pursue anything after that. This could be the last time I see him.”

            “By chance, has anyone ever told you that you’re dramatic?” Louis questioned. Zayn sighed, resting a cheek in one hand and his elbow on the counter as he gazed out the window.

            “No,” he answered. “They usually skip dramatic and go right to ‘crazy.’”

            “Well, you’re dramatic,” Louis said, patting his friend twice on the back. “Go have a smoke and chill. Everything is going to be fine.”

            “You don’t know that,” Zayn argued, still not looking from the window. Louis knew he was watching intently for the first sign of Liam.

            “You’re right,” Louis said, “but I’m pretty sure.”

            After a brief pause, Zayn sighed again, then stood up and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pockets.

            “Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna go smoke. You have a nose piercing coming in about twenty.”

            “I know,” Louis assured him. “I’m ready.”

            Zayn nodded, his eyes glazing over for just a moment before he brought himself back to reality and went outside.

            Louis wanted to laugh at his friend, just a bit, because he was being absolutely ridiculous, but then remembered that he was the one wishing for someone who absolutely hated him, so maybe Zayn was still in a better place than Louis was.

            Zayn had only been outside for about a minute when Louis saw Liam’s car start to pull in. The other tattooist saw it too, and he threw his cigarette on the ground, stomped it out frantically and ran inside, a look of pure panic on his face.

            “They’re here,” he told Louis.

            “I know,” Louis said.

            “What do I do?!”

            “Go to the back and pull yourself together, maybe?” Louis suggested.

            “Yeah,” Zayn agreed, nodding. “Yeah, good idea.”

            He fled to the back so comically that Louis was surprised he wasn’t waving his arms above his head in the process.

            As soon as he heard the door to their bathroom close, the bell above their front door rang and in walked two women, followed closely by Liam, who had been holding the door for them.

            “Good afternoon, Liam!” Louis greeted cheerfully, “and hello, ladies!”

            “Hi, Louis!” Liam said with a smile, though he momentarily looked concerned when his eyes scanned the shop and he saw no sign of Zayn. After the women with him had given their polite greetings, Louis was quick to reassure the man.

            “Zayn is just getting a couple last-minute things set up,” he explained. “He’ll be right out.”

            “Oh,” Liam said, his shoulders relaxing. “Okay!”

            “So, which one of you are getting tattooed?” Louis questioned.

            “That would be Ruth here,” Liam said, patting his sister on the back. Then, he put his arm around the other woman, causing Louis’s heart to fall for Zayn for a moment before he said,

            “This is my other sister, Nicola. She came along for moral support too because apparently I wasn’t good enough.”

            “Nope, you’re sure not,” Ruth said. Liam gasped, pretending to look hurt. Louis laughed.

            “It’s nice to meet you both,” he said. “I’ll go see where Zayn’s at with-”

            Louis didn’t get to finish the sentence because then the bathroom door was flung open and out sauntered Zayn, looking much more relaxed than a mere two minutes ago. Sometimes, Louis wondered if he had multiple personalities.

 Zayn had his typical, enticing smile on his face and widened his eyes theatrically when he saw the three waiting by the counter.

            “Oh, hey!” he called from halfway down the hallway. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in!”

            “That’s okay,” Liam assured the other with a smile. Louis swore his eyes were sparkling as well, and he was quite sure that they hadn’t been before Zayn approached. “This is my sister Ruth, the birthday girl, and my other sister, Nicola.”

            “Hi! Happy birthday!” Zayn greeted, shaking Ruth’s hand first and then Nicola’s.

            “Thank you,” Ruth said.

            He was sure Zayn didn’t notice, but Louis couldn’t miss the glances that Liam’s sisters gave each other, followed by the approving smiles.

            “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll have you fill out some boring paperwork so that you can’t sue me later, and then we’ll get to tattooing! This is your first one, yes?”

            “Yeah,” Ruth said with a sheepish smile. Zayn gave a polite chuckle.

            “Don’t be nervous,” he said. “I’ll go as easy as I can on you and take as many breaks as you need.”

            “I think I’m more nervous over the fact that my brother picked my tattoo,” Ruth said, and the other three laughed.

            “Eh, you seem to have a pretty cool brother,” Zayn said. “I think you’ll like what he picked. If you’re ready, you can follow me…”

            As he turned to lead the others back, Zayn stopped and looked at Louis.

            “Are you good out here?” he asked.

            “Golden,” Louis verified.

            “Brilliant,” Zayn said, and then began his walk to the back, glancing over his shoulder once to make sure the others were following.

             Checking the clock, Louis saw that he still had about ten minutes before his appointment showed up, so he took out his book and began to read. Sadly, he saw that the pen he had been using as a bookmark had fallen out, and Louis had just found his place again when the bell above the door chimed.

            “Hello!” he greeted, and then almost outwardly groaned when he saw his ex entering the shop.

            “Hello!” Duke said back with a wide smile. “I’m here for my appointment!”

            “You’re getting your nose pierced?” Louis asked, one eyebrow quirking up of its own accord.

            “Yeah,” Duke said, not bothered by the reaction. “Don’t you think it will look good?”

            Louis shrugged, placing his ‘bookmark’ into his book and then tossing it onto the counter.

            “It’s your body,” he said.

            “It used to be yours too,” Duke stated, and stumbled as he made his way to the front counter; giggling at himself afterward.

            “Are you drunk?” Louis asked.

            “No! Of course not!” Duke insisted, and then winked. Louis rolled his eyes.

            “I can’t pierce you while you’re drunk, Duke,” he said. “Come back tomorrow when you’re sober.”

            “How about I sit here and drink some water, and then you can pierce me?”

            “No. I’m going to need you to come back tomorrow.”

            Louis expected Duke to get angry, but he didn’t. Instead, he smirked, leaning forwards against the counter and reaching out to touch Louis’s arm. He flinched back, but Duke persisted, tugging at his wrist until he’d forced Louis to uncross his arms, and then holding his hand.

            “Okay, you don’t have to pierce me today,” Louis’s ex-husband said. “I can just hang out and we can do…you know…whatever.”

            Duke gave Louis a sly smile, and Louis was pretty sure he nearly threw up.

            “You’re with Harry,” he said.

            “He doesn’t have to know,” Duke said. “I’d ask him to join us, but he doesn’t like you, so…”

            “Why would you cheat on Harry?” Louis asked, rage almost making him unable to see straight.

            “Because I miss you, babe,” Duke answered, kissing all five of Louis’s knuckles. Grimacing, Louis tried to pull back, but Duke had too firm of a hold on him.

            “You need to leave,” Louis said, his heart hammering. Part of him wanted to call for Zayn, but another part wanted to prove to himself that he could handle this; that maybe he was stronger than he thought.

            “Don’t you miss me?” Duke asked, his voice a whine.

            “No,” Louis said, attempting once more to tug away, but Duke’s grip on his hand tightened painfully. At least one of Louis’s fingers popped.

            “Lou, come on, babe,” Duke said. “You hurt me and I hurt you. We’re even now. Can’t we forget all of that and start over?”

            “You’re with Harry.”

            “What if I wasn’t?”

            “No.”

            “Why not? Why are you being so stubborn with me?”

            “I’m not being stubborn. I don’t love you anymore, Duke. I’m not sure I ever did.”

            Louis had known better than to say that. The panic hit him before Duke’s expression even twisted angrily, and he, one last time, tried to pull free, with no success.

            “Damn it, Louis!” Duke exclaimed, frustrated. His voice wasn’t quite a yell yet, but he slammed his hand down on top of Louis’s, on the counter, and Louis yelped like a dog.

          Taking Louis’s book, Duke threw it, and Louis had to duck so it wouldn’t hit him in the face. Unfortunately, that distracted him, and Duke knocked him off the stool he was sitting on. Louis yelled out louder as he landed on his wrist funny, but Duke silenced the sound by pressing their lips together. When Louis pushed him off, Duke pulled him to his feet and threw him over his shoulder.

        He knew what was going to happen next; Duke was going to either throw him onto the counter or take him to the back to have his way with him, but then, Louis felt another pair of hands on him and before he knew what was happening, he was shoved gently into Zayn’s arms. His friend kept a tight hold on him and after blinking everything into focus, Louis saw Liam pinning Duke against the wall. His ex-husband wore a terrified expression, and if Louis hadn’t still been so frightened himself, he would have been tempted to take a picture. Sure, it was easy for Duke to be tough when he was fighting smaller, weaker people like Louis and Harry, but when it was Liam, who was nearly all muscle and wore confidence like an accessory, he was forced to face reality.

            “What’s going on here, mate?” Liam demanded of Duke, who was struggling to break free, but to no avail.

            “N-nothing,” he stuttered, glancing at Louis as if he would save him. Liam removed one hand from Duke’s shoulder to force him to look back at him.

            “It looked like something,” Liam said.

            “Just a spatter between exes,” Duke said, laughing nervously. “It’s no big deal.”

            “Huh,” Liam said, and then looked over his shoulder at Louis.

            “Want us to call the police, Louis?” he asked.

            “No,” Louis said, after a brief hesitation. There would be something gratifying about seeing Duke in the back of a police car, he was sure, but, really, Duke hadn’t done much this time, and he would probably get off on nothing. In the end, it would just make Louis’s life worse.

            “You sure?” Liam asked.

            “Yeah,” Louis said.

            Liam looked back at Duke, and everyone was dead silent for a few seemingly long moments before Liam spoke, his voice low and threatening.

            “I better never hear that you touched him again,” he said.

            Liam was Zayn’s man, and Louis would never think of trying to take him away from his friend, but he probably could have kissed him in that moment. Instead, he shrunk more into Zayn, who rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

            “Did you hear what I said?” Liam asked when Duke hadn’t responded.

            “Mhm,” the drunk man hummed, nodding once and looking as if he might piss himself.

            Now that he was a bit calmer, Louis really wished he had his phone to take a picture.

            “Go,” Liam said, letting go of Duke and backing up.

            The man made a break for it, but when Louis said, ‘wait,’ Liam grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him back without seeming to need much force. Duke even whimpered. Louis, even though he wasn’t the one to cause it, felt empowered.

            “You want us to call the police now?” Liam asked patiently.

            “No,” Louis answered, “but he’s drunk and we shouldn’t let him go out driving and potentially hurting more people.”

            “What do you suggest we do with him, then?” Zayn asked.

            “Keep him here until Harry comes to get him?” Louis questioned. He saw on Zayn’s face that that was something he really didn’t want to do, but, knowing it was the right thing, he gave in.

            Liam sat with Duke while they waited on Harry, and Louis went back with Zayn and the girls, who had come out to see what the commotion was only after hearing the word ‘police.’ Louis was grateful they hadn’t seen the whole thing.

            Zayn had turned the sign on the front of the shop door to ‘closed,’ so when they heard the bell above the door ding, they could only assume that it was Liam letting in Harry. Sure enough, Louis heard Harry’s voice ask,

            “What are you doing here?”

            “I wanted a piercing,” Duke said.

            “You told me that you had work to catch up on,” Louis heard Harry say, and his heart hurt for the man.

            To Zayn, Louis whispered,

            “I don’t know if I want him going home with Harry right now, either.”

            Zayn studied Louis, clearly torn, but no one stopped the two as Harry took Duke from the shop, Duke apologizing profusely all the way.

            A few seconds later, Liam came back with the rest of them.

            “Thank you,” Louis said immediately. Liam gave him a reassuring smile.

            “Of course,” he said. “Sorry if I got a bit carried away. I used to have a boyfriend that would get really angry, especially when he drank, so when I heard he was your ex, I think I kind of lost my mind for a minute.”

            Liam laughed, but his sisters had looked away from him at the mention of his ex, and Louis and Zayn stared at him with a combination of shock and sadness. Finally, after Liam had awkwardly cleared his throat, Zayn said,

            “Glad you got away from that one.”

            “Me, too,” Liam said and, looking to Louis, “and I’m glad you got away from him.”

            Louis nodded, not mentioning that he really didn’t feel free from his ex-husband at all.

             Zayn spoke again after a moment, and Louis wasn’t sure whether he was trying to lighten the mood or just saw it as a golden opportunity, but he said,

            “I hope your current boyfriend treats you much better than that.”

            Thinking that he had been talking to Louis, Liam looked at him curiously, and when Louis nodded to Liam, his eyes widened.

            “Who, me?” he asked, touching his chest.

            “Yeah,” Zayn said.

            “Oh,” Liam said, and then laughed. A pink tint took to his cheeks and he ran a hand through his hair, suddenly flustered. “I don’t have a boyfriend right now.”

            “Oh, sorry,” Zayn said with an apologetic grin. “Thought you did.”

            “No. I haven’t dated since him.”

            “Well, maybe that’s good,” Zayn told him. “Take your time and make sure you find someone who deserves you.”

            “Yeah,” Liam said, smiling as he looked Zayn up and down. “I will.”

            Louis looked towards Liam sisters, and all three of them shared knowing grins.

            “Back to the tattoo, then?” Zayn asked.

 

            Halfway through Ruth’s tattoo, Liam remembered the birthday cake he’d brought along and left in the car, so they took a break to eat. Even Zayn, who was still leery about food that didn’t come from his home, took a few bites.

            Soon, Louis started to feel elated, and he wanted to blame the sugar, but he knew it wasn’t that. He had been embarrassed, at first, that so many people had seen him in such a vulnerable position, but as he talked and laughed with them, he started to feel grateful. They’d seen him weak and had helped him. They still treated him like an equal and acted like they cared.

            When Liam and his siblings left, the first thing Zayn said to Louis was,

            “So, you’re the one who hurt him, huh?”

            Choking up, Louis swallowed and cleared his throat before answering.

            “Yeah,” he said. “I did…out of self-defense.”

            “Aw, Lou,” Zayn said, pulling his friend into a hug.

            Until that moment, Louis hadn’t realized how healing admitting a bit of his past out loud, even to one person, would be.

***Harry***

            “Baby. I’m sorry!”

            “Yes, Duke. You’ve told me that,” Harry said, helping his drunk boyfriend into bed; not in the kindest manner that he could have.

            “You’re mad at me,” Duke stated.

            “You lied to me!” Harry exclaimed. “You said you were going to work, but instead, you got drunk and visited your ex-husband, so I think I have the right to be a little upset!”

            “You do,” Duke admitted, tugging on Harry’s hand in an attempt to get him to lay down too, but Harry pulled out of his reach and crossed his arms. “But I wasn’t planning on visiting Louis. I went out with some co-workers to drink and then decided I wanted a piercing. It only made sense to go to him.”

            “Why is he still the one you think about when you drink? Do you think about him when you’re sober too?”

            “No!”

            It sounded as if Duke was crying. Harry gritted his teeth in the hopes that his reserve wouldn’t crack.

            “I love you. You should know that by now,” Duke told him.

            “How should I know when you’re still hung up on your ex?”

            “I’m not hung up on him…it’s just…I don’t know! It’s like Stockholm Syndrome, I guess! I don’t want to believe that the man I used to love truly wanted to hurt me. I just need closure, and I can’t get that because he still hurts me every time I see him!”

            “What did he do today?” Harry asked, caving in just enough to sit on the edge of the bed. Duke intertwined their pinkies as he let out a sniffle.

            “He tried to get me to have sex with him,” he said. “When I wouldn’t, he got angry, and that’s when he called you to come get me.”

            “Did he physically hurt you?”

            “No,” Duke said, sniffling again as his voice threatened to crack. “Not this time.”

            With a sigh, Harry laid next to his boyfriend and wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

            “I’ll go get help,” Duke told him.

            “I think that’s a good idea,” Harry said.

            “I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

            “You’re not going to lose me.”

            “Not ever?”

            “No. Not ever.”

***Louis***

            _Louis watched Harry take a long drag from the blunt they were sharing. He looked angelic as his lips formed an ‘o’ to let the smoke back out, his curls framing his face perfectly and his green eyes boring into Louis’s like he was contemplating everything he was made of._

_“How do you do it?” Harry asked._

_“Do what?” Louis returned._

_“Make your marriage last.”_

_Louis laughed._

_“To be honest, I don’t know.”_

_“I know,” Harry said, even though he’d been the one to ask the question._

_“Enlighten me,” Louis requested._

_“Because you and Duke are both perfect,” Harry replied, as if it should have been obvious._

_Louis snorted._

_“We’re not perfect.”_

_“Yeah, you are.”_

_“Harry, I’m unemployed and depressed, and Duke…”_

_Louis hesitated. Of course, Duke was far from perfect, but his flaws were much darker than Louis cared to admit to anyone, so instead, he said,_

_“I guess he’s perfect.”_

_“You’re depressed?” Harry asked, his forehead creasing, but smoothing out as soon as he took another puff. He handed the blunt back to Louis. “Why?”_

_“I don’t know,” Louis said. “I don’t think you can really explain depression.”_

_“But you have someone who loves you.”_

_“I know,” Louis admitted, because even if his husband didn’t love him, he at least had his mom and sister who did._

_“That fucking sucks,” Harry sighed._

_“What does?” Louis asked, not sure if he was confused from the haze he was under, or if Harry truly wasn’t making sense._

_“I thought I would be happy once I found someone that loves me, but I guess it doesn’t work like that.”_

_“I love you,” Louis said, and Harry laughed._

_“Not like that, dork. I mean, if I found true love. Like my soul mate.”_

_“Maybe that will make you happy,” Louis reasoned. “Everyone is different.”_

_“And what would make you happy?” Harry asked._

_**You** , Louis thought, but he answered,_

_“Got any booze to go with this?”_

_With a small laugh, Harry stood from the floor, where he’d been sitting cross-legged across from Louis and went to the fridge. Never one to go light, Harry pulled out two full bottles of wine; one for himself and one for Louis._

_“To booze,” Louis said, clinking their bottles together before taking a swig._

_“To happiness,” Harry returned, and then took a long drink from his own._

_***_

_Hey, is Duke okay?_

            Louis chanced texting Harry that night, half hoping he didn’t have the same phone number. Even if he did, he figured that maybe he and Harry could escape getting in trouble if Duke knew that they were talking about him.

            It took Harry a while to respond, and though Louis was partially grateful, he kept the vibration on his phone up high and put it on his chest as he closed his eyes. It was only seven o’ clock, much too early to be in bed, but Zayn had told Niall what happened that day and so Louis got away with saying he didn’t feel well and making it an early night without too many questions.

            Louis had been half-asleep when his phone vibrated, making him jolt awake.

            _Yes,_ Harry had replied, and then a second message came through.

            _You better never pull that shit again._

Louis frowned at his phone.

            _What shit?_ He asked. It seemed likely that Duke had told some lie about Louis and why he was at his shop, which didn’t surprise Louis after thinking it over for a moment, but he still wanted to know what he’d supposedly done. Harry, however, only said,

            _Don’t play dumb. Keep yourself and your crazy away from my man._

Typically, that probably wouldn’t have made Louis angry. It would have hurt him, yes, but anger was something he rarely felt when Harry was involved.

That night, it was different. If his room hadn’t been dark, he may have seen red.

            Louis marched downstairs, and guessed he made quite a bit of noise about it, because Niall had the TV muted and was staring towards the doorway when Louis entered the living room.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked.

            “You know the birthday party Lottie is throwing for Ricky next weekend?”

            “Yeah…”

            “You know how Duke and Harry will be there too?”

            “Unfortunately. That’s why I’m not sure I’m going.”

            “Oh, no. You’re going, and you’re to be my boyfriend. Got it?”

            Niall stared at Louis, his eyebrows almost meeting his hairline, but then he smiled, the rest of his muscles relaxing.

            “Whatever you say, dearest.”

           


	7. Chapter 7

            Niall took his job of fake boyfriend very seriously. After getting permission to touch Louis whenever, Niall insisted they hold hands as soon as they got to the party and kept a hold on the other’s waist while squeezing through or talking to guests. He made sure that Louis was okay on drinks and refreshments all night and gave him a kiss on the cheek whenever he had to leave his side to go to the toilet or anything else of the sort.

            Louis really wished he could fall in love with Niall, though knew it was best for Niall’s sake that he didn’t. He deserved better than Louis.

            At first, Louis thought that all of Niall’s efforts had been for nothing, as Duke and Harry weren’t showing up. He figured he would have to be satisfied enough with the look of horror on Lottie and Ricky’s faces when they saw how close the two had gotten because it was hilarious, even if it hurt Louis just a little.

            Finally, over an hour into the party, Louis’s ex-husband arrived with Harry, and Louis swore Harry was entering in slow motion when he came through the door; smiling and saying something inaudible to the woman who had let them in. Of course, that was probably just because he was slightly past tipsy by that point.

            “Come on,” Niall said into Louis’s ear. He tugged on his wrist gently. “Let’s let them find us.”

            Louis nodded, allowing Niall to lead him back to the kitchen, where he got another drink.

            “Take it easy, love,” Niall whispered again, rubbing Louis’s shoulders as he kissed the back of his neck. Louis glanced behind himself, trying to see if Harry and Duke had followed them already, but nobody was there. Niall hadn’t been putting on a show.

            “I’m okay,” Louis assured his friend with a smile as he turned around and kissed him, full on the lips. Niall smiled and bopped his nose.

            “You look wonderful tonight,” the Irishman commented. “If Harry doesn’t want to go home with you by the end of the night, he’s stupider than I thought.”

            “Shut up,” Louis said, shoving Niall playfully. Naturally, it was then that Duke and Harry decided to enter, and though Niall was facing away and couldn’t see them, Louis thought that he must have heard them enter because he caught Louis’s hand and pulled him close to his body, giving him a passionate kiss once he had him chest-to-chest. Louis sloshed a bit of drink on both of their shirts, but Niall didn’t seem to mind.

            “Mm, I like it when you’re feisty,” he said once he broke apart, and Louis giggled; more out of nervousness than anything.

            “I’m sorry, are we interrupting something?” Duke asked, and Niall rolled his eyes for only Louis to see before he turned around, putting his arms around Louis’s waist as he faced the others.

            “No, no; not at all. What’s up?” he asked politely; almost too politely.

            “Louis…,” Duke said instead of answering Niall’s question. “Who is this?”

            “This is Niall,” Louis explained. “My boyfriend. You’ve met him before, I believe.”

            “Yeah, we’ve met a couple times,” Niall said, smiling at the other two, but keeping a firm hold on Louis.

            “I didn’t realize you two were dating,” Duke said flatly. Harry, on the other hand, was looking back and forth between the ‘couple’ with wide eyes.

            “It was really none of your business,” Louis said flatly, and then led his ‘boyfriend’ away.

            Once they were out of earshot of the other two, Louis against a wall and Niall close to him, Niall let out a loud laugh.

            “That was great!” he said, his eyes shining. “I’m so proud of you, Lou.”

            Louis wasn’t sure whether the kiss Niall gave him that time was for show or just because he wanted to, but it made him smile either way.

            “I think they were about to shit themselves,” he said, and Niall laughed again, nearly doubling over.

            “They totally were!” he said. “Oh my god, they were so pissed.”

            “Yeah, cuz they know you can do better,” Louis said, and though he’d made his tone teasing, Niall stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes.

            “No,” he said. “Because they’re awful people who don’t care about anyone’s happiness but their own.”

            Instead of replying, Louis took a sip of his drink.

            “Whenever you’re ready to leave, just say the word,” Niall said.

            “Soon,” Louis promised, unsure of why he wanted to stay. “I’m gonna go to the loo. Can you hold this for me?”

            Obediently, Niall took the drink Louis handed him and took a sip. Louis glared, but with a light smack on the butt, Niall sent him on his way.

            Not wanting to pass by Duke and Harry again to get to the main toilet that everyone at the party was supposed to use, Louis went upstairs and took Lottie’s hidden key to open that bathroom.

            After taking care of business, Louis washed his hands and exited the toilet, suddenly feeling exhausted. He was almost tempted to go to one of the bedrooms and lie down, but knew that wouldn’t make his sister too happy, so instead, he went back down to the party, eager to get his drink back.

            Niall wasn’t where he’d left him, and after checking outside, Louis saw that he wasn’t there either. His car was still parked across the street, though, so he knew that his boyfriend-for-the-night hadn’t left him, at least.

            Sighing, Louis had to come to terms with the fact that there were only two places left which Niall could be; the kitchen or the backyard. Both required passing Duke and Harry again.

            Though it was tempting for Louis to wait by the car and text Niall, saying he was ready to go, he knew that would make him seem like a terrible boyfriend. The others would think he wasn’t giving Niall a choice and maybe even that there would be consequences if he didn’t listen.

            Louis jolted when he entered the house again and almost ran into Duke.

            “Hello, Louis,” he greeted, but Louis didn’t have the time nor strength to deal with him, so he gave a simple, ‘hello’ before heading to the kitchen.

            It was almost Harry who ran into Louis that time, and both of them jumped.

            “Sorry,” Louis said, but Harry passed him by without a word. Sighing again, Louis looked forward to see Niall standing by the food counter, looking irate.

            “Hey,” Louis said, concerned, as he walked towards his friend. “Are you okay?”

            “That man is infuriating,” Niall said quietly; probably not wanting the other bystanders to hear.

            “Harry?” Louis asked, his voice low as well. Niall nodded and then motioned for Louis to follow him outside. They then sat on the porch swing, Niall putting an arm around Louis’s shoulders.

            “Do you want to talk about it?” Louis asked, and Niall shook his head.

            “Not really,” he said. “I just needed to get away from all those people.”

            He shot Louis a quick smile before adding,

            “All of them except you, of course.”

            Louis wasn’t deterred by his sweet words.

            “What happened?” he asked. Niall’s sigh mimicked his own.

            “He told me that you tried to get Duke to sleep with you,” Niall explained.

            “What did you say?” Louis asked, panic threatening to overtake him. “You didn’t tell him what actually happened, did you?”

            “Not really…”

            “’Not really?’ What does ‘not really’ mean?”

            “I didn’t tell him that I knew anything for a fact,” Niall said, taking a sip from the cup he was still holding for Louis. “I simply informed him that if I were busted trying to cheat on my boyfriend, I would probably make it seem like the other person’s fault too.”

            “Niall…”

            “Come on, Louis. Wouldn’t you want to know if you were dating a cheater that beat his ex-husband?”

            “Yes,” Louis said. “I was simply going to tell you that you’re _so_ getting lucky later.”

            Niall’s eyes widened, but then he smiled; getting a bit turned on just by Louis’s words.

            “Let’s get out of here soon, then,” he said, though it was phrased more like a question.

            “Soon,” Louis nodded, and laid his head on Niall’s shoulder. Louis simply didn’t have the energy to get up yet, and Niall wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he swung the pair gently, almost lulling his mate to sleep before nature woke him back up.

            “I have to pee,” he announced, sitting up straight. Niall laughed.

            “Again?” he asked.

            “Yes.”

            “You broke the seal,” Niall informed him. Louis nodded.

            “I broke the seal.”

            Standing, Louis added,

            “I’ll be ready to go after that.”

            “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

            Taking his drink from Niall, Louis drained the remainder and went inside, tossing out his garbage before heading towards the stairs. Right before ascending, someone grabbed his arm, and Louis yelled out, turning himself around so fast that he fell backwards onto the steps. Ricky caught him right before he hit the stair.

            “Whoa, sorry,” he apologized, having to shout over the blaring music. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

            “It’s cool,” Louis said, gently pulling himself from Ricky’s grasp once he was steadied, and then fixing his hair.

            “Um…may I ask where you’re going?” the man questioned, looking half afraid for doing so. Louis answered pleasantly,

            “Just to the loo. Someone was in the one down here.”

            “Oh, okay,” he said, and then, “Hey, I was just wondering if you’ve seen Harry. None of us can seem to find him.”

            “No,” Louis said, fear settling upon him. “Did he leave with Duke?”

            “Duke’s still here. He has no idea where Harry is either.”

            “I haven’t seen him,” Louis said. “If I do, I’ll let you know.”

            “Okay. Thanks.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            With a pleasant nod, Ricky turned and headed back into the crowd of people. Louis scanned over all the heads he could see, hoping to locate Harry, but he didn’t.  Maybe he would help look for him after using the toilet.

            Or maybe he would decide it was none of his business and leave well enough alone, like he knew he should.

            The key was already in the bathroom door, and Louis rolled his eyes at himself for being too dumb to even remember to hide his tracks. He gave a brief knock, but when he didn’t hear anything, he went right in.

            That was when he saw Harry, rising to his feet quickly from the position he had been in, on his knees in front of the toilet.

            “Shit, sorry,” Louis said, tripping over himself as he backed up, trying to get out the door. Harry was glaring, but his red, watery eyes took away some of the threat from them.

            “Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Harry asked, stopping Louis, who had one hand on the door frame.

            “I did knock,” he said. Harry’s expression didn’t change.

            The two stared at each other for a few agonizing moments before Louis decided to speak again.

            “Um…what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine,” Harry said, crossing his arms and then remembering to flush the toilet and wash his hands.

            Louis wasn’t convinced by his words.

            “Are you sick, or…?”

            “I’m fine,” the other man snapped again. “Please stop pretending like you care about anyone other than yourself.”

            Harry tried to walk by Louis while making it clear that he was doing his best not to touch him. Typically, Louis would let him go and sit by himself to lick his wounds for a bit, but that time-be it from liquid courage or whatnot-he decided that he wasn’t going to do that.

            Harry gasped as Louis grabbed his arm and pulled him, un-forcibly, back into the room. Before he had a chance to recover from his shock and hurl more insults, Louis spoke.

            “I wish I didn’t care about you, Harry!” he exclaimed, unsure of what his words were going to be until they were already out of his mouth. “Do you think it’s enjoyable to care about someone who hates the fact that you even exist? It’s not! If I could stop giving a damn about you and see you as the scum you think I am, then I would, but I can’t!”

            At first, Harry’s expression was unreadable. Then, Louis almost thought he saw a bit of something; sadness, pity, or understanding, before that snarl returned to the other man’s face.

            “Don’t tell anyone about this, understood?”

            “Does that mean you’re not sick?”

            “It means mind your own business and keep your mouth shut.”

            Harry passed by Louis again, not bothering to avoid bumping into him that time. Louis rolled his eyes but let him go.

            For a brief instance, Louis forgot what he’d gone into the bathroom for, but his full bladder soon reminded him. Harry was lucky, because Louis’s first instinct had been to run downstairs and tell Duke that he’d potentially caught his boyfriend purging. By the time he’d finished relieving himself, however, he remembered that he wasn’t five.

            “Lou?” Niall’s voice came through the door as he simultaneously knocked.

            “Almost done!” Louis called as he wrapped up washing his hands.

            “Are you alright?” Niall asked anyway.

            “Fine,” Louis said as he opened the door. “Sorry, someone was in here before me.”

            “Oh,” Niall said, a relieved smile crossing his face. “That’s okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t throwing up or passing out.”

            “I’m not _that_ drunk, Niall,” Louis told his friend with a laugh. “Actually, I feel pretty sober now.”

            “That doesn’t mean you want to stay and get drunker, does it?” Niall asked dreadfully.

            “No,” Louis assured him. “Right now, I want to take my boyfriend home and show him just how amazing he was today.”

 

            Louis had been in the mood to make love to Niall, and he enjoyed making him feel good, but the sex wasn’t as euphoric as he’d imagined it would be.

As infuriating as it was, Louis couldn’t get Harry out of his head, and while, typically, that would have worked to his benefit, now it just made him sad.

Niall didn’t share his worries, of course.

“You know, I’m kind of happy I was cheated on,” he commented moments after finishing. When Louis gave him a strange look, he explained, “I can’t imagine a life without ever experiencing you.”

Louis snorted.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, running his short fingernails over Niall’s bare bicep.

“I’m serious,” Niall said.

            “That makes you downright crazy, then.”

            “Maybe,” Niall said with a smile. He kissed Louis, then hoisted himself onto one arm and began to run a finger down Louis’s chest.

            “Okay,” he said. “My turn for you.”

            “Actually…” Louis said, taking Niall’s hand in his own and giving the top of it a kiss. “I’m good.”

            “You got off already?” Niall asked, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

            “I got off enough,” Louis said. Niall frowned.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing’s wrong, Niall.”

            “Was that too rough? Did I do something? Did you feel forced into this?!”

            “No,” Louis said, laughing and giving the other a kiss on the lips. “I’m just really tired now. You’re exhausting, my love; in the best possible way, of course.”

            Niall didn’t look convinced.

            “Tell me what’s wrong.”

            “Nothing, I promise. I just want to cuddle. Can we cuddle?”

            For a few moments, Niall simply studied his friend’s face, most likely trying to detect a lie. Then, giving in, he laid down, his head on Louis’s chest and their hands still intertwined.

            “Fine, you cheese,” he sighed. “We can have a post-sex cuddle.”

***

            _“Do you want to talk about it?”_

_“Talk about what?”_

_“Why you were very noticeably crying when I first got here.”_

_“I told you; I was cutting onions.”_

_“Onions for a meal that you won’t eat?”_

_Louis wasn’t trying to be funny, but Harry, sitting next to him on the couch and nursing a bottle of straight tequila, laughed anyway._

_“Touché.”_

_“I’m serious, Haz,” Louis sighed, and bumped their feet together. “What’s wrong?”_

_“We don’t talk about things, Lou,” Harry said. “We get trashed and pass out. We don’t talk.”_

_“But we can.”_

_Harry thought about it, but then shook his head._

_“Talking has never done anything,” he said. Before Louis could reply, he asked,_

_“Why do you call me Haz?”_

_“I dunno,” Louis admitted. “I just think it fits you.”_

_Harry thought about it, and then nodded._

_“I like it,” he said._

_“Good,” Louis told him. “Now stop changing the subject. What’s wrong?”_

_“I’m me, Louis,” Harry said, laughing again even though Louis still failed to find humor in the situation. “I cry over everything and nothing.”_

_“Fine,” Louis sighed. “Don’t tell me. Just know that you can.”_

_“Alright,” Harry said. His smile looked a little more genuine; a little less manic. “Noted.”_

_When Louis did nothing but nod, feeling a bit defeated if he was being honest, Harry added,_

_“Thanks, Lou-Lou.”_

_“Lou-Lou?” Louis asked, snorting in amusement. Harry’s grin grew._

_“Yeah,” he said. “Lou-Lou.”_

_“Haz and Lou-Lou,” Louis said out loud._

_“Haz and Lou-Lou against the world,” Harry sighed, putting his bottle down and moving so that he could rest his head on Louis’s shoulder._

***Harry***

            It had been a while since Harry purged. Well, a couple months, but for Harry, that was a long time. It wasn’t easy to fall back into the act, like he thought it would be. He’d paced around the bathroom for a good five minutes, mentally going over the reasons of why he should and shouldn’t do it.

            In the end, his darker side won because Harry knew that Niall was probably right. Louis probably didn’t want Duke anymore. He had Niall, and they seemed happy and healthy together. Of course, appearances could be deceiving, but Harry’s gut told him that Niall was right; that Duke was the one who still longed for Louis.

            Maybe it was the way Duke kept looking at his ex-husband until the moment he walked out the door, hand-in-hand with Niall, for the final time. Perhaps it was how angry he got when Duke found out that Louis had moved on. Or maybe it was the fact that Duke had barely listened to a single word Harry had said all night and insisted on drinking his weight in alcohol while telling Harry he weighed too much to eat or drink anything at all.

            Okay, so Duke hadn’t _actually_ said those words and maybe it was all in Harry’s head, but the way he kept stealing bites of his food, squeezing his waist and making love to nearly everyone except his own boyfriend with his eyes, made Harry think that Duke wanted to say those words and just didn’t have the courage.

            It took Duke twenty minutes to note that Harry was acting ‘weird,’ once he finally returned to him, and that was simply because Harry wouldn’t kiss him. He couldn’t. The piece of peppermint gum had done little to rid the sick taste or feeling in Harry’s mouth, though he didn’t mind because he honestly didn’t want Duke to kiss him anyway.

            “Sorry,” Harry apologized. The word was hard to spit out. “I’m just not feeling well.”

            “Why didn’t you say something?” Duke asked, his face showing concern.

            “You’re having fun,” Harry said.

            “Baby, your health is way more important than my entertainment,” Duke said, and took Harry’s hand; having to set his pastry down on a random end table in the process. “Let’s go.”

            “Shouldn’t we go tell Lottie and Ricky goodbye?” Harry asked as his boyfriend led him to the door.

            “They’ll be okay.”

            Harry expected a fight when he told Duke that he wasn’t letting him drive, but he didn’t get one. The car ride home was silent except for Duke humming under his breath, and Harry bit the insides of his cheek so that his reserve wouldn’t melt. It was pathetic that something as simple as a hum could rid him of ill feelings towards his boyfriend, but ‘pathetic’ seemed to describe a lot of states in Harry’s life. He’d grown to accept it by now.

            Since he’d told Duke he hadn’t felt well, which hadn’t been a lie in the least bit, Harry stripped down to his underwear and went straight to bed once arriving at the house. It took Duke a while to go upstairs, and Harry hoped he was making him tea like he sometimes did when Harry was sick, but he had no such luck. When Duke arrived in the bedroom, he laid next to Harry and looked deep into his eyes before sticking his hand down Harry’s boxers without a bit of warning.

            “Duke!” Harry gasped after jumping hard enough to hit his head on the baseboard.

            “What?” the other man asked innocently.

            “I told you that I’m not feeling well. What are you doing?”

            “I thought you only said that so we could go home and have some alone time?”

            Harry stared, deeply pondering what went wrong in his boyfriend’s brain sometimes.

            “Why would you think that?” he finally asked when he failed to come up with any explanations himself. Duke stared at Harry, much like Harry had stared at him, and then slid his hands up his boxers from the bottom up. Harry gently slapped him off.

            “Seriously, stop it,” he said, getting up to go to the bathroom, where hopefully Duke wouldn’t follow.

            As Harry passed his boyfriend’s side of the bed, the other man stood as well. He grabbed Harry’s arm, spinning him around so hard that Harry fell against him.

            “You’ve never rejected me for sex before,” Duke said, pushing Harry away from him slightly, but keeping a firm hold on his arms; tight enough to where Harry couldn’t comfortably pull away.

            “Don’t take it personally,” Harry said, his voice shaking a little. He wasn’t sure if he was more scared, sad, or disappointed, but he was some combination of all three. “I just feel really sick.”

            “Did Louis say something to you at the party?” Duke asked, his nostrils flared.

            “Like what?” Harry asked. _That you were the one who tried to get him to sleep with you?_

“I don’t know,” the other man said. “You’re just acting like _he_ used to.”

            Harry opened his mouth to say something, but thought the better of it. Then, when Duke still wouldn’t let go of him, he said it anyway.

            “Well, I’m assuming you probably like that.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “I said; I’m assuming you probably enjoy the fact that I’m acting like Louis, given how much you clearly miss him and all.”

            The last word was barely out of Harry’s mouth before there was a sharp sting on his cheek. A moment later, the ‘slap’ sound registered in his ears.

            Due to Harry’s shock, the pain only lasted a moment. Regardless, the stinging on his cheek had nothing on the stinging in his eyes.

            Harry’s surprise was mirrored on his boyfriend’s face and, finally, Duke backed up, both of his hands in the air defensively.

            “Baby, I’m sorry!”

            It took a moment for Harry to respond. First, he closed his slacked mouth and cleared his throat and his head. He took a few seconds to build up his courage and make sure he sounded much stronger than he felt when he spoke.

            “By chance, is that how you happened to treat Louis when you were together?” he asked. “I’m not saying that it was okay for him to beat you, because it wasn’t, but if how you’ve been treating me is the way you treated him, I can kind of see why he went insane.”

            Duke narrowed his eyes, his hands dropping back down to his waist before he crossed his arms. The anger had returned to his face.

            “I never hurt Louis,” he said.

            “Well, hitting me seemed to come pretty easy to you, so how would I know?”

            “I learned that from him!”

            Now, Duke looked sad, and Harry was about to get whiplash from the back and forth that both of their emotions were doing.

            “Please, baby,” Duke said, taking a couple steps closer. Harry took two steps back. “I’m sorry!”

            “I’m sleeping in the guest room,” Harry said, and walked out without another word or backwards glance. Surprisingly, Duke let him go.

            Once he was in the guest room, Harry locked the door and got onto his knees to pull out the hidden box of Twix bars he kept underneath the bed. He could afford one, he supposed. Or two. Hell, maybe he should eat them all because if he got bigger, Duke might just leave him.

            Harry knew how he liked his lovers pretty and little…Like Louis…

            Harry’s heart pounded painfully when he thought of the man. Though he hated to admit it, even to himself, he missed him. Every time he saw him or even heard his name, Harry’s body would still react with excitement, but that excitement would soon turn to sadness and then anger.

            If Harry hadn’t left his phone in the other room, he may have done something extremely stupid and texted Louis. He needed to know the truth of what had happened between him and Duke the other day at the tattoo shop; and what had happened between them in general.

            As Harry munched on his Twix bar, he realized that texting Louis would do no good. He and Duke were both likely to say whatever would sound better for themselves. Probably, he would never learn the full truth, and so he would decide whichever one he felt deep in his heart.

            With enough effort, he may be able to convince himself that he trusted his boyfriend. After all, he hadn’t had a reason to doubt him until that night.

            Well, not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a longer Larry memory in the next part. I know you all are probably feeling Larry-deprived, so thanks for being patient with me! I didn't even realize how twisted my brother's relationship with his fiance had been until 'interviewing' them for this story. *Insert eye roll here.* 
> 
> Thank you to everyone still reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! Almost all of this is a flashback, but it's also almost all Larry, so hopefully that's ok :)

***Harry***

            _Harry sighed as he set his empty alcohol bottle on the ground by his head, not caring when it fell over. Louis, laying down as well with his feet against Harry’s, sat up halfway to look at him. Harry admired how he didn’t even appear to struggle with the position._

_“You good?” Louis asked. Harry saw that his alcohol bottle was still nearly full and wondered just how quickly he’d downed his._

_**Pathetic.**_

**** _“I’m good,” Harry assured him automatically. “Just thinkin’.”_

_“About what?”_

_“Do you ever want to run away, Louis?”_

_“Doesn’t everybody want to run away sometimes?” Louis returned, laying down again and using his own hands as a pillow._

_“No, like; seriously,” Harry said, wanting to get the point across that he wasn’t simply caught up in a silly, romanticized fantasy. “I’m talking fake your death and start a whole new life; become someone else.”_

_Louis thought about the question for only a moment before saying lightly,_

_“That would be nice.”_

_“You think?” Harry asked, sitting up and closing his eyes momentarily against the spinning room._

_“Yeah, I guess so,” Louis said._

_He guessed so. Harry assumed that meant that Louis was only humoring him, so he kept his mouth shut, not wanting Louis to think he was even stupider than he probably already did._

_A moment later, Louis sat up again; all the way._

_“Let’s do it,” he said._

_“What?” Harry asked._

_“Maybe we won’t go as far as faking our deaths, but we should run away for a few days. It would be fun.”_

_“What about your boyfriend?” Harry asked, already feeling excited over the mere thought of running off with Louis, but not wanting to get his hopes up too much._

_“Eh, given the way he’s been acting recently, he probably won’t even miss me,” Louis said._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Exactly what I said. Now do you want to run away or not?”_

_Harry was much too drunk to drive, so it was Louis behind the wheel on their way to Las Vegas. As he drove, blasting music he knew Harry liked, Harry was on his phone, booking a hotel room. It wasn’t easy to find a room spur-of-the-moment, but he eventually succeeded in finding a last minute cancellation._

_He would tell Louis that it was for the honeymoon suite later._

_Before leaving, Louis had wanted to take a little bit of money out of the bank, but Harry hadn’t let him. The less traces of themselves they left behind, the better, and they didn’t need Duke’s money anyway, as Harry told Louis._

_“I’m not letting you pay for this whole trip,” Louis had said._

_“Yes, you are,” Harry disagreed. “How many times have you helped me write a song, or played back-up instruments for me, and never taken anything for it?”_

_“That’s different.”_

_“No, it’s not. Besides, it was my idea to run away.”_

_“Not so spontaneously.”_

_“I like spontaneous,” Harry said with a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you, Lou.”_

_Harry enjoyed the car ride with Louis, but he was glad when they got to the hotel. He was starting to sober up and feel a little sick, so the sooner he got more alcohol into his system, the better. He hoped the honeymoon suite had some wine or champagne waiting  for them._

_“Congratulations, you two,” the front desk woman told the pair with a warm smile as she slid Harry the room keys. Harry grinned. Apparently, this hadn’t been the woman he’d talked to on the phone, who knew he only took the room because it was all they had, but that was fine. He was perfectly okay with people thinking that he and Louis were married._

_“That was strange,” Louis said as the pair headed for the elevators; Louis carrying both of their bags. “Why do you think she congratulated us?”_

_Despite his confusion, Louis was still smiling. It was a soft smile; one that Harry didn’t get to see very often, but that warmed him when he did._

_“Well…,” Harry said, his own grin growing. Louis offered a suspicious look._

_“What did you do?” he asked teasingly._

_“It’s not my fault!” Harry insisted. “It was the only room they had left!”_

_“And what room would that be?”_

_“The honeymoon suite.”_

_Louis quirked an eyebrow, the smile still on his face._

_“That’s the **only** room left, was it?” he teased._

_“It was!” Harry insisted. Louis simply laughed._

_“And how, my dear, did you manage to afford the honeymoon suite?”_

_“Louis, I’m insulted,” Harry claimed, though he wasn’t. “I don’t do what I do for a living to only be able to afford a small, disgusting hotel room, should I ever decide to run away.”_

_Harry assumed Louis knew he wasn’t talking about the music._

_Louis laughed and shook his head, but then the elevator opened. Louis held the doors for those coming out and then for Harry as he entered before him._

_“Ah, yes. The true reason I wanted this room,” Harry said, making a beeline for the champagne bottle on the bed as soon as they entered._

_“So you **did** want this room,” Louis accused._

_“It was the only one left,” Harry said again, “but I wasn’t upset when we got it.”_

_After popping the top off the bottle and taking a long swig, Harry said,_

_“Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the couch.”_

_“You’re not going to sleep on the couch, Harry,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes. “It will be fine. It’s not like we’re going to do anything.”_

_**Unfortunately** , Harry thought. _

_He handed the bottle to Louis, who took a swig as well._

_“I’m actually really hungry,” he said as he handed the bottle back to Harry. “Do you mind if we freshen up and go get something to eat once you finish that?”_

_“That’s fine,” Harry said, taking a few long swallows. “Want to help me so we can finish it faster?”_

_The champagne was strong, so even though Louis didn’t drink quite as much as Harry, he was still too tipsy to drive to the restaurant. Harry didn’t mind calling a cab, though Louis felt bad._

_“You’re spending so much money!” he said, looking quite forlorn over the fact as they stood outside and waited for their taxi._

_“It’s fine,” Harry said. “We’re in Vegas. Do you know how easy it will be to get money here?”_

_“Are you good at gambling?”_

_“No, not at all. But Vegas is full of lonely people and people looking to cheat, so I’m sure it won’t be hard to find business.”_

_Louis’s shoulders slumped, a sad expression coming over his face. He even stuck out his bottom lip, which Harry poked._

_“It’s really okay,” he said. “I don’t mind it. Even when it wasn’t my job, I would go out and have sex with random strangers, so I might as well get paid for it, you know?”_

_“Sure, Harry,” Louis said, his tone unreadable. Then, he smiled._

_“One day, when your music career really takes off, you won’t have to do that anymore.”_

_“Yeah,” Harry said with a laugh. “We’ll see.”_

_The two saw their cab pulling up and ceased conversation. When the vehicle parked, Louis opened the door, but allowed Harry to enter first._

_“Where to?” the driver asked. Louis and Harry shared a look, realizing that they didn’t know where they wanted to go, so then Harry said,_

_“Your favorite restaurant around. You look like you have good taste.”_

_The driver shot Harry a quick smile through the rearview mirror._

_“Yes, sir.”_

_The cab driver, who was quick to tell Harry that his name was Ray, drove them to an Italian steakhouse. Louis and Harry thanked him and got out of the car; Louis again holding it as Harry exited, and then closing the door with one last wave to Ray._

_“Of course he picked somewhere expensive,” Louis said after the man had driven away._

_“Have you eaten here before?” Harry asked._

_“No,” Louis said. “I’ve never been to Vegas, but it **looks** expensive.”_

_“It’s fine,” Harry assured Louis with a smile as he gently touched his back to lead him inside._

_“I owe you when we get back,” Louis said._

_“No, you don’t,” Harry said. “You’ve made my running away dream come true.”_

_“Not the faking your death part, though.”_

_“That will come later.”_

_“When you do it, will you at least let me know that you’re alive?”_

_“Maybe.”_

_Harry winked, and to the hostess, said,_

_“Two, please.”_

_Hearing that it was their first time at the restaurant-and, in Louis’s case, in Vegas-their waitress let them try a few of the wines before deciding which to order. Harry let Louis choose, but politely asked the waitress not to answer when he asked about the prices._

_A few minutes after delivering their wine, the waitress came back for their food order. Harry motioned for Louis to go first, and then told the woman that he was fine with just the wine._

_“You’re not getting food?!” Louis asked after their waitress had told Harry to inform her if he changed his mind and then walked away._

_“Nope,” Harry answered simply, taking a sip from his glass. He wasn’t sure if the alcohol was strong, if it was purely psychological, or if it was because he was already decently intoxicated, but Harry felt the effects right away and smiled._

_Louis didn’t look nearly as happy._

_“Aren’t you starving?” he asked, sounding worried._

_“Yes, actually,” Harry answered lightly. “It’s how I keep my figure.”_

_“We should have gone somewhere cheaper,” Louis said._

_“It’s nothing to do with the money, Louis.”_

_For the second time that night, Louis’s shoulders slumped. That sad expression came back to his face, making Harry feel guilty._

_“Haz, that’s not healthy.”_

_“No shit,” Harry said, winking to take away some harshness from his words._

_“I’m sure your ‘figure’-” Louis used air quotes around the word-“would still be fine if you ate something.”_

_“I have to disagree.”_

_“Come on, Harry!” Louis whined. Cleary, he was still quite intoxicated too, and he took another drink before continuing. “I have lots of fun stuff planned for us, and we can’t do them if you’re going to be passing out on me!”_

_“Oh, you do, huh?” Harry asked, curious and excited, but trying not to make it obvious._

_“I do.”_

_The waitress came back, bringing a basket of rolls, and Louis asked if he could please have another menu. When she retrieved it for him, he opened it up to the first page of food and looked at Harry._

_“What do you like?”_

_“Nothing,” Harry insisted._

_“I know some people are quite picky, Harry, but not that picky.”_

_“I don’t want to eat anything.”_

_Louis sighed, closing the menu._

_“If you pass out on me, you’re in trouble.”_

_“I’ll remember that,” Harry assured him. “So, what do you have planned for me?”_

_Louis went over the various ideas he had for the two to do, and Harry grew happy, knowing it would take at least a good few days to get through them all._

_He wondered if Duke had returned home from work and found Louis missing yet, and if he’d texted him. Harry was even more curious as to if Louis did-or would-text back._

_Soon, Louis’s food came. Harry told the waitress that he still didn’t want anything, but the woman’s back was barely turned before Louis had his forkful of pasta right in front of Harry’s face._

_“Try it for me,” he asked. “Tell me if it’s good or not. I’m scared.”_

_“You’re scared?”_

_“Yes. Terrified.”_

_“Well, I am, too. To be honest, it looks like one bite of that has at least two hundred calories.”_

_“Nah,” Louis disagreed. “There’s no way it has any more than 199.”_

_Harry narrowed his eyes. Louis’s expression didn’t change._

_“Pretty please, with zero-calorie sugar on top?”_

_Though he tried not to, Harry laughed. After shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he said,_

_“Fine.”_

_He wouldn’t tell Louis that he’d only said yes because the food smelled delicious and was making it feel like multiple knives were stabbing him in the stomach._

_Harry took a bite, feeling ashamed as he did, and even more so when he felt his eyes widen with pleasure._

_“Is it good?” Louis asked, the hint of a smile starting to form._

_“Yeah,” Harry admitted after swallowing and taking a long drink from his wine glass. “It is.”_

_“Do you want more?” Louis asked, but then shook his head at himself and said, “No. Wrong question. Will you eat more?”_

_“No,” Harry said. “It’s not my food.”_

_“You’re paying for it.”_

_“That doesn’t matter.”_

_“I’m not going to eat all of this.”_

_“You can take it to go.”_

_“But we aren’t going back to the hotel right away. We’ll be running about for a bit and I don’t want to carry a box of slowly spoiling food around.”_

_Without waiting on another reply from Harry, Louis filled an empty bread plate with some of his pasta and slid it to Harry._

_“Let me know if you want more,” he said._

_“I won’t,” Harry told him._

_“Didn’t think so, but I wanted to offer anyway.”_

_It took Harry another drink-and-a-half, but eventually, he started eating._

_“You’re beautiful,” Louis said, causing Harry to roll his eyes again. Or, at least he tried, though he may have only succeeded in making them go to the back of his head as if he were possessed._

_“Relax, I’m already eating,” he told him._

_“I know,” Louis said. “I just thought you should know that you’re just as good-looking eating as you are when you’re starving.”_

_“It hasn’t hit my thighs yet.”_

_“Mm,” Louis said, slurping some noodle into his mouth. “Don’t even get me started on thick thighs.”_

_Harry snorted into his wine glass._

_After leaving the restaurant, Louis and Harry headed straight for the nearest casino._

_“Have you gambled before?” Harry asked the other as they entered and Louis’s eyes widened._

_“With my life, yes. With money, no,” Louis answered. Harry gave him a questioning look, but when Louis only smiled, he laughed._

_“You’re a strange one,” he said._

_“You’re one to talk,” Louis teased._

_“True.”_

_Harry took out his wallet and handed Louis a fifty dollar bill._

_“Go for it,” he said. Somehow, the other man’s eyes grew even wider._

_“No, no. I can’t,” he said._

_“Sure you can.”_

_“I’ll lose it!”_

_“That’s okay. Just promise me one thing.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_“Have fun.”_

_Louis still looked unsure, so Harry decided to smack his bottom. Platonically, of course._

_“I’m going to go get us some drinks and see if I can find some other goodies,” he said. “I’ll find you soon.”_

_“Okay! Don’t get arrested!” Louis warned._

_“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing,” Harry told him. With a wave, he went in for the hunt._

_Two drinks, a few pills of Ecstasy and a bag full of cocaine later, Harry started his hunt for Louis. He was just starting to panic when someone took one of the drinks right out of his hand. With a gasp, Harry turned around, sloshing a fair bit of the other beverage onto the floor and his hand._

_“Oops. Sorry,” Louis said, taking a sip from the glass he’d stolen. “I’ll buy you a new one.”_

_“Oh, you will?” Harry asked, not even angry because at least he’d found Louis. How could he even be mad at Louis anyway?_

_“Yes,” Louis said. “I will.”_

_“With what?”_

_“This.”_

_Louis turned around and shook his butt at Harry, though that wasn’t necessary in order for Harry to see the multiple bills in his back pocket._

_“That was quick!” he exclaimed, taking the money out and folding it neatly together before Louis lost it. “And you said you’ve never gambled.”_

_“It was beginner’s luck,” Louis claimed._

_“I see.”_

_When Harry tried to give Louis the money back, he shook his head._

_“Nope,” he said. “It’s yours. That should make up for most of what you’ve paid for me.”_

_“Louis, I don’t want your money.”_

_“Good because I don’t have any. That right there is yours.”_

_After a pause, in which Harry only gave Louis what he’d hoped was a threatening gaze but didn’t seem to phase the other man at all, Louis said._

_“Well, actually, I need this back…”_

_Expertly sliding a twenty from the bunch, he explained,_

_“To buy you a drink.”_

_It was that day that Harry taught Louis how to discreetly snort cocaine, and he thought he would be proud, but he felt a bit ashamed afterward. That all went away once he got his own fix, though._

_Once they finished their second drinks, the pair decided to head back to the hotel. The weather was nice and they felt light on their feet, so they decided to walk. However, they weren’t quite as good at navigating their way around an unfamiliar place at night while severely intoxicated as they thought they would be, and it didn’t take long for them to realize they were lost. Still, they didn’t panic. Louis even claimed that it was ‘exciting,’ but the redness of his face and his wide eyes hinted that he was simply feeling the drugs strongly._

_“‘Hey, ‘Arry, do you think tha’s where people go to get married by Elvis?” Louis asked, stopping to point at the wedding chapel they were passing._

_“I don’t know,” Harry said, not wanting to ruin Louis’s excitement and tell him that he didn’t think so._

_“Do you wan’ to go find out? Do you wanna marry me?”_

_“I don’t think Duke would like that,” Harry said, regretfully. “What’s going on with you two anyway?”_

_“I don’ wanna talk about it,” Louis decided after a brief hesitation. He began walking again, stumbling to the side a bit, but managing to balance himself. Harry followed, but wasn’t giving up the conversation that easily._

_“If you’re not happy anymore, then maybe you should leave.”_

_He felt bad that he hoped he would be the one to inevitably fix the resulting broken heart that Louis would suffer._

_“I did leave, didn’t I?” Louis asked, slowing his paces so that he and Harry could again walk side-by-side._

_Grabbing Harry’s hand, Louis changed the subject._

_“Le’s go to Paris!”_

_“I thought we were going back to the hotel?”_

_“Nah. The night is young! Paris!”_

_Naturally, Harry took Louis to Paris, suddenly remembering that they both had a GPS on their phones._

_“‘Is soooo pretty,” Louis commented as he stopped in front of the Eiffel Tower and gazed up at it, almost in a trance. Harry laughed and took the top of his arm gently._

_“Come on, Lou,” he said in his ear. “You’re letting your high show.”_

_Louis smiled apologetically._

_“’Ave you ever been to Paris?” he asked._

_“Nope,” Harry said. Louis looked shocked._

_“You, with your cheesy romance movies and fairy tales dreams, have never been to Paris?!”_

_“That’s why my fairytales are just dreams,” Harry told him, sliding his arm around Louis’s waist, but only for safety purposes._

_“So sad,” Louis sighed._

_“Have you been there?” Harry asked._

_“No.”_

_“Then why is it sad that I’ve never been?”_

_“’Cuz you deserve to go.”_

_“Well,” Harry said, gesturing to the Eiffel Tower replica. “Close enough.”_

_While Harry stared at the faux Eiffel Tower, he felt Louis studying him intently. When he looked at the other man, Louis smiled and tapped Harry’s nose with his finger, even saying ‘boop’ as he did so._

_“Le’s go get you a Paris shirt so everyone thinks you’ve been!” Louis said, grabbing Harry’s hand, but again; only for safety purposes, Harry was sure._

_After going inside the nearest hotel and buying Harry a t-shirt with the money he’d claimed was Harry’s, but that he kept ‘borrowing’ all throughout the night, the two went to play on the slot machines. Louis claimed that he didn’t want to try his luck again and insisted on watching Harry. It took three tries, but when Harry finally won something-fifteen dollars, he turned with a smile to celebrate with Louis, only to find that he wasn’t there anymore._

_**He left me** , Harry’s brain said, but, fighting against it, Harry decided to look around anyway. Maybe he’d simply gotten distracted by a game or drinks or a light. In his current state of mind, who really knew?_

_Harry was just starting to come to terms with the fact that his brain was probably right, and that Louis had suddenly changed his mind about being there and left when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. A wave of relief washed over him when he read Louis’s name._

_**Where are you?** He’d asked, and before Harry had a chance to reply, a second text from him came through._

_**Meet me by the Eiffel Tower outside.**_

**** _If Harry had been more balanced, he would have run._

_“Hello!” Louis said as he saw Harry approaching him. He was sitting on the ground and Harry offered a hand to help him up._

_“You scared me,” Harry told him._

_“Sorry,” Louis apologized. “Had to throw up.”_

_“You had to…Are you okay?!”_

_“I’m fine,” Louis assured him with a smile. “I’m just very drunk.”_

_“Yes, you are,” Harry agreed. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”_

_Feeling not so light on their feet anymore, Harry and Louis decided to call a cab. Harry started to feel sick during the ride, but he managed to refrain from throwing up until he was locked away in the bathroom in their hotel room._

_“Alright, good job,” Louis said, high-fiving Harry when he stumbled to the bed, where Louis was currently laying. “Now we can take a nap and wake up completely ready to get drunk again.”_

_“That’s all I want out of life,” Harry sighed, and then collapsed onto the bed with his face against a pillow. He moaned._

_“This bed feels so good,” he said._

_“Harry, if we’re to be sharing a bed, I’m going to need you to refrain from making those noises.”_

_“Why?” Harry asked, rolling over to face Louis. “Did you like that?”_

_“We both have puke breath,” Louis stated, which didn’t really answer Harry’s question. Or maybe it did. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to know._

_“Let’s get some sleep,” Harry said. “We’ll both probably feel better when we wake up.”_

_“I’m going to wake up here, though; right?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“None of this feels real. I’m not sure it is real, to be honest. I don’t want to fall asleep and be in bed at home. I want to wake up right here, like this.”_

_“That’s the drugs talking, honey,” Harry said, feeling the need to brush a strand of hair off Louis’s sweaty forehead at that precise moment. “This is real, and Vegas and I aren’t going anywhere.”_

_Louis hummed, seemingly content, and closed his eyes. Harry checked his racing pulse to determine that it wasn’t racing **too** fast and then, when convinced that Louis was merely falling into a relaxing slumber, he fell asleep as well._

_Harry woke up before Louis, but he didn’t dare get out of bed. Louis wanted to wake up ‘right here, like this,’ so that was exactly how he was going to wake._

_At first, Louis looked confused when he came to. Then, for an alarming second, he looked like he was going to get sick, but, finally, he smiled._

_“See?” Harry said, drawing his attention from the ceiling. “Told you.”_

_Louis’s grin grew._

_“What time is it?” he asked._

_“Four in the morning,” Harry replied. Louis groaned._

_“Why are we awake?!”_

_“I don’t know about you, but I really have to take a piss.”_

_“Okay. You go do that and I’ll order us room service. They have twenty-four hour room service! Isn’t that amazing?!”_

_“Sure, Louis.”_

_What do you want?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Chicken tenders it is.”_

_Harry laughed and shook his head before going to the toilet._

_When he got out, Louis was just getting off the phone with room service._

_“It will be about twenty minutes.”_

_“Mkay,” Harry sighed, laying on the bed again and rubbing his forehead._

_“Headache?” Louis asked._

_“A bit.”_

_“Want something for it?”_

_“Another drink?”_

_Louis rolled his eyes. Harry took that to mean that he wasn’t getting him another drink, but that was fine. With a groan, he repositioned himself so that his head was in Louis’s lap and Louis played with his hair, almost lulling him back to sleep until a knock on the door signaled that the room service was there._

_Harry must have still been a bit drunk, because it wasn’t terribly hard for him to eat one-and-a-half chicken tenders. Whatever it was, he felt very little like himself, and he liked it._

_Louis and Harry went back to sleep soon after eating their meals, and when they woke up, nearly completely sober with only minimal side effects, they began their adventure again. They shopped and gambled-Louis won a bit more money, which, of course, he gave to Harry-and they drank very little._

_Still, all that fun came with a price; a literal one, as Harry found himself almost broke by the end of the night. He didn’t mind, because most of his money had been spent on Louis and Louis deserved the world. Besides, it wouldn’t take long for him to build up a nice savings again, so that night, once Louis fell asleep, that was exactly what he did._

_He left a note for Louis, telling him what he was doing, in case Louis woke up before Harry returned, but when he got back, he saw that Louis had barely changed positions. That was good, because Harry didn’t really want him to know what he’d done._

_After crumbling up the note and throwing it into the garbage can, Harry went to shower. He felt disgusting. What he did wasn’t honest work, of course. It was, in fact, very, very dirty, but it usually didn’t affect Harry. He typically  was quite a bit more intoxicated when he worked, though, and he vowed from that point on to never do it sober again._

_In the shower, he didn’t feel as if he could scrub his body hard enough to get the filth off._

_**You’re so fucked up** , he told himself. **Louis would never want someone like you.**_

_Harry didn’t know why he’d ever had even a fleeting thought that he and Louis could one day be together. Why would Louis leave his built, gorgeous boyfriend with a nice, honest job for a prostitute who was strung out on drugs? Harry knew he lived in a fantasy world, but he never before realized it was to that extreme._

_The fantasy came back a bit the next morning when he woke up to breakfast from Louis. He bought it with his own money that he won in a slot machine, he’d said, and Harry couldn’t get the smile off his face, even with the thoughts of last night screaming at him._

_**Will you at least let me know you’re still alive?** Gemma texted Harry later that day. He’d let his phone die the first night he’d arrived in Vegas with Louis and hadn’t felt the need to charge it until that morning._

_**I’m alive** , Harry assured her. _

_**Is Louis with you?** She asked._

_He ignored her._

_Harry laid next to Louis that night as he waited for him to fall asleep, and once he was out, Harry got up to get ready for another night on the streets._

_Before he left, he knew he needed some kind of substance to take the edge off of his anxiety, but he was stopped on the way to his bag where he kept his stash by Louis groaning and rolling over in his sleep. Harry paused and held his breath, thinking that he had been the one to nearly wake Louis, but the man kept making small whines and rolling all about, despite Harry’s silence._

_When he walked back to the bed, Harry saw that Louis was drenched in sweat, and his own heart began to race._

_“Lou?” he whispered, laying a hand across his forehead. The other didn’t seem feverish, but that didn’t do much to calm Harry. Had he sneaked some drugs while Harry wasn’t looking, and was he having a bad reaction?_

_“Lou, wake up,” Harry urged, but Louis’s eyes remained shut._

_After a few moments, Louis let out a long, shaky breath and seemingly went back to normal. Harry stayed for a few extra minutes, checking the other’s temperature, pulse and breathing rate before deciding that he was okay enough to leave for a few hours._

_Forgoing getting high, just in case Louis needed him when he got back, Harry went to the door, but when he turned the handle, he heard Louis shout from the bed and quickly ran back to him. Louis jumped and pulled the covers over his head when Harry rounded the corner, and then jumped and yelled again when Harry ripped them off._

_“Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, a bit louder than necessary, due to his own panic. Louis sat, shaking and breathing heavily, for only a couple of seconds before sighing in what seemed like relief._

_“Harry,” he said._

_“Yeah, it’s me,” Harry said. “Who else would it be?”_

_Louis shrugged, slowly laying back down and putting his hand over his eyes._

_“Thank fuck,” he sighed._

_“Did you have a nightmare?” Harry asked, putting his hand on Louis’s leg, just to let him know he was still there and to try and provide a bit of comfort, if possible._

_“Yeah,” Louis said._

_“Is this too much?” Harry spoke, the words hurting him. “Do you want to go home?”_

_“No!” Louis answered right away. “That was my nightmare; that we were found.”_

_“Oh,” Harry said, not sure what to make of that. He wasn’t super excited to go home either, but the thought wasn’t terrifying to him. “No, we’re safe for now.”_

_“For now,” Louis whispered. Harry rubbed his leg._

_“Are you alright, Lou?”_

_“Yeah,” Louis said, uncovering his eyes and offering a very shaky smile. “Please…don’t go out tonight, though.”_

_Perhaps Louis had seen his note the previous night after all. Or maybe he’d just seen the way Harry was dressed-in a black mesh top that cut off just above his belly button and tight black pants that were shorter than boxers-and made the connection._

_Despite desperately needing the money (he was now unsure how he was going to pay for so many nights at the hotel), Harry said,_

_“I won’t.”_

_He laid back down next to Louis._

_“Can I ask you something?”_

_“Go for it,” Louis told him._

_“What did you mean when you said Duke was being a jerk?”_

_Despite being in a laying position, Louis shrugged and then looked at Harry._

_“Typical guy stuff,” he said._

_“And that’s the reason you don’t want to go back?”_

_After studying Harry’s face, deep in thought, Louis smiled._

_“I just really like it here,” he said._

_It would be two days before Louis’s nightmare came true._

_Louis and Harry were both asleep, but startled awake by a loud pounding on the door. It was light and noisy out, so it must have been late in the morning, and Harry saw the look in Louis’s eyes. **He knew**. They both did._

_“Louis!” a man yelled. Harry thought it was Duke, and the look on Louis’s face all but confirmed that. “Open the fucking door, you fucking slut!”_

_“Charming,” Harry whispered._

_“You know it,” Louis whispered back, even quieter._

_“I can answer and tell him you’re not in here while you hide,” Harry offered, but Louis shook his head._

_“No,” he said. “I guess it’s time to go home.”_

_Harry laid there while Louis answered the door._

_“‘Morning,” he greeted, and a second later, the door slammed shut. By the echo of their voices, Harry knew that Duke and Louis were in the hallway, though it didn’t stop him from being able to hear every word that was said._

_“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, running off like a little whore?! Don’t you know how good you have it?”_

_“I just wanted to see if you’d miss me,” Louis said, breaking Harry’s heart._

_“Bull shit! Go get your things, you manky slag! We’re going home, and if you think I’m angry now, just you wait…”_

_Unable to hear someone talk to Louis that way anymore, Harry hurried to the hallway, alarming Duke when he did so._

_“It was **him** that you were with?!”_

_“That’s a bit obvious now, isn’t it?” Louis retorted, and Duke pushed him against the wall, holding him by the shoulders. Harry tried to pull him off, but Duke shook out of his grasp._

_“What did you two do?! How long has this been going on?!”_

_“Nothing is going on!” Louis explained. “We’re just friends who both wanted to get away. That’s it!”_

_“Tell me the truth, Harry,” Duke demanded, looking at the other man while keeping Louis firmly against the wall. The smaller man’s face was growing red from the struggle he was putting up to get free. “Don’t bother lying for this skiver.”_

_“Nothing happened,” Harry said. Then, “Maybe if you didn’t talk to him like that, he wouldn’t want to run away.”_

_“Piss off.”_

_Duke yanked Louis away from the wall, dragging him by the wrist and apparently forgetting about his boyfriend’s belongings._

_“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” Louis said, trying in vain to pull away again._

_“Shut it,” Duke warned. “Right now, you’ll be lucky if I don’t send your pathetic, ungrateful arse back to England to live with your mummy.”_

_Duke pulled on his boyfriend harder, almost making Louis fall._

_“Don’t be so rough with him!” Harry yelled, wanting to chase after them, but feeling as if that would make things worse. Duke was one second away from snapping, by the looks of it, and any little thing could set him off._

_“Thank you, Harry!” Louis called over his shoulder before he was pushed around a corner by his boyfriend._

_That was the last Harry saw of him for nearly a month._

***

            Duke was cooking breakfast when Harry went downstairs the next morning, and he smiled brightly when he saw his boyfriend enter.

            “Good morning, baby!” he greeted, as if nothing had happened. “You woke up just in time. The food is almost ready.”

            “I’m not hungry,” Harry said, sitting at the table. Duke switched off the stove and turned around to face Harry, his arms crossed, and the smile wiped off his face.

            “Don’t be like this,” he said, almost like a warning.

            “Like what?” Harry asked. His stomach hurt, but he wasn’t sure if purging had messed it up or if something else was bothering him.

            “All whiny and refusing to eat,” Duke said.

            “I’m not,” Harry said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I still don’t feel well.”

            Frowning, Duke took the seat next to Harry and reached out to feel his forehead. Both of them pretended Harry didn’t flinch when he saw the hand coming towards his face.

            “You don’t have a fever,” Duke informed him.

            “I didn’t think I did,” Harry said.

            “What’s wrong with my baby, then?” Duke wondered aloud, sticking out his bottom lip. Harry wasn’t amused. Duke took his hand.

            “I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he apologized, his voice soft. “I don’t know what came over me. I guess I just got scared and lashed out in self-defense when you started reminding me of Louis.”

            “Duke, I’m not trying to doubt or blame you, but if Louis traumatized you so much, why do we still go around him? Why does it seem like you still want to be his friend?”

            “I don’t want to be his friend,” Duke claimed. “I just feel bad for him, you know? The way he is…it’s not completely his fault.”

            “How do you figure?”

            Duke sighed, as if he’d said too much, but still, he went on.

            “How much do you know about Louis’s past before we came to California?”        

            “Not much,” Harry said, only then realizing it himself. He thought he’d known Louis pretty well, besides the whole husband-beater thing.

            “So you’re not aware that Lottie isn’t his real sister?”

            “What?” Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. “They look so much alike! What do you mean?”

            “They’re cousins,” Duke explained. “Lottie’s mum adopted Louis when he was almost seven, after his biological parents almost killed him. They’d abused him from the time he could remember, babe; in every way you can abuse a person, so for a long time, that’s all Louis knew. I’m sure somewhere along the way, he had to convince himself that what they were doing wasn’t bad and didn’t hurt to make it easier to cope with, which is understandable, but I think that blurred the lines of right and wrong in his mind.”

            Harry was surprised to find that he had a lump in his throat. He tried so hard not to care about Louis. Even knowing what he did now, he wasn’t excused. After all, Louis wasn’t the only person to have terrible parents, and not all of them grew up to beat their husbands.

            Still, his heart was breaking for the child version of Louis, who had been completely innocent. There was no way he could have adequately fought back at that age, so perhaps hurting people was the only way Louis knew to protect himself.

            “Do you think he’ll ever hurt Niall?” Harry asked.

            “I don’t know,” Duke said. “I hope not, and if he does, hopefully Niall is smart enough to leave right away.”

            The two sat in silence for a couple of moments, and then Duke brought Harry out from his own head by kissing him on the lips.

            “Anyway,” he said, rising to his feet, “you really don’t want breakfast?”

            “No,” Harry said, “but I’ll keep you company while you eat.”

            Even though he sat there dutifully, watching Duke scarf down his food like he hadn’t eaten in days, Harry wasn’t truly present. He couldn’t stop thinking about Louis, and wondering if he would have been different if he’d never known the pain he did at such a young age.

            Though he hated the fact that he now knew those things about Louis, it gave Harry hope. Maybe he wasn’t crazy; maybe Louis did have some genuine good in him. Perhaps it was simply overshadowed sometimes. Maybe the right person could bring it out of him.

            At one time, Harry would have longed to be that person, but it was too late for that. Harry was never meant to be with Louis, as he’d once thought. He was meant to be with Duke, and if he wasn’t, then Harry would pretend, because he couldn’t take being alone or starting over again.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, you don't have to tell me how dumb 'Harry' was to not see what was going on even after Vegas. I shook my head multiple times during the recounting/writing of this chapter ;)


	9. Chapter 9

***Harry***

            It had been a while since Harry had dwelled on the concepts of Prince Charming or fairy tales, but for the next couple of days, Duke almost brought the fantasy back to him.

            Even on the days he had to work, Duke would wake before Harry to cook breakfast, and if Harry was still asleep (or feigning sleep) when he left, he would leave a note that read something along the lines of,

            _Good morning, beautiful! I hope you got a good night’s sleep. I love you so much. Please eat something. I’ll see you soon. XOXO_

Typically, Harry would take a couple bites of the food, feeling too guilty not to, before disposing of the rest in a manner which Duke would never know.

            Duke began calling Harry on his lunch break; something he never before did, and he talked to him the whole hour. Harry couldn’t keep count of how many times he told him that he missed him and loved him within that time frame, but he knew that his own face hurt from smiling when they got off the phone.

            This was the true Duke, Harry reminded himself. It wasn’t just the fact that Harry didn’t want to be alone that kept him around. His boyfriend was a great person. He just forgot to show it sometimes, but Harry couldn’t really fault him for that. No one was perfect. Everyone’s insecurities and darkness came out every now and then. With all Duke had been through, Harry was surprised it didn’t happen more often.

            The night after Duke hit Harry, he asked him to cancel his later date so that the two could have some quality time together; just them. Harry was more than happy to, and he was elated when Duke had him call off his engagements for the couple nights following as well.

            Truth be told, Harry hated his night job. There were times he wanted to ask Duke if he could quit, but he never did. He didn’t make enough money at the salon to cover his half of the rent and bills, and Duke told him early on in their relationship that he wasn’t going to settle for another ‘lazy excuse for a man that wasn’t going to contribute anything to the relationship.’ That was understandable, of course, and since Harry lacked the knowledge, skills or confidence to score another job, he kept on doing what he was doing.

            When Duke came home from work, four days after hitting Harry, he looked less than happy to be greeted by his boyfriend, who was simply in a t-shirt and sweatpants, with takeaway pizza waiting on the counter for dinner. Still, he gave Harry a kiss, and the two cuddled on the couch, watching TV while eating. Harry was in such a good mood that he even allowed himself a couple slices of pizza.

            “Hey, babe, I was wondering,” Duke began during a commercial break. He turned his body to face Harry, a loving expression on his face as he wiped some sauce from the corner of Harry’s mouth with his finger. Harry smiled and Duke returned it.

            “You were wondering?” Harry prodded, and Duke seemed to jolt back to reality.

            “Oh, yes. I’ve loved spending this time with you and having you to myself for the past few nights, but when do you think you’re going to get back to escorting?”

            “Um, I can do it whenever…,” Harry said, his happiness vanishing just like that.

            “I think you should, as soon as possible,” Duke said, and added, “Tonight, if you can. And pick a pretty one.”

            Duke gave an ornery smile and Harry tried to grin in response. He didn’t know if it worked, but his boyfriend didn’t say anything.

            “Okay, I’ll try,” Harry said, standing up to go and retrieve his phone. As he passed, Duke gave him a nice slap on the bottom.

            “That’s my boy,” he said.

            Harry was hoping he wouldn’t be able to find a date for that night, but it took him all of ten minutes to make a deal with someone. When he showed Duke a picture of the man he was going out with, a wide smile spread across his face before he gave Harry a quick, loud, kiss on the lips.

            “Baby, he’s perfect!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Definitely see where he would stand with a threesome tonight, okay?”

            Harry couldn’t deny that his client was gorgeous, but that didn’t stop him from being a complete jerk. It was rare that Harry had pleasant dates, as there was a reason that most of those men had to pay to get dates, but he quickly concluded that this one would go in his list of top three worst.

            The first thing the man said to Harry was that he looked ‘different’ in person, and his facial expression gave the clue that he preferred his photographed image better. The stranger wouldn’t stop talking about himself and how successful he was while belittling Harry and refusing to stop calling him a ‘whore,’ even when Harry politely corrected him, and as Harry ate his salad, the guy suggested taking the carrots and croutons off because of the carbs.

            “Don’t make me do this,” Harry whispered loudly to Duke over the phone after he’d excused himself to go to the bathroom when he just couldn’t take it anymore.

            “Do what?” Duke asked, not sounding concerned with the distress that even Harry heard in his own voice.

            “Have sex with him. I don’t want to.”

            “Why not? Did he use a fake picture?”

            “No, it’s the same guy as in the picture, but-”

            “Harry, he’s gorgeous,” Duke said, like he didn’t know what the problem was. Of course, he didn’t, really, since he wouldn’t let Harry finish what he had to say. “What’s there not to want about him?”

            “He’s a gigantic arse,” Harry said, peeking out of the stall door to make sure he was still alone in the toilets.

            “Has he done something to you?”

            “Not really. It’s just things he’s saying…”

            “Well, there won’t be a lot of talking going on while we’re fucking him.”

            “Duke, please.”

            “Come on, Harry,” the man on the other end of the line pleaded. “I love you, but I need this tonight. Okay?”

            Harry sighed.

            “I love you,” Duke added again.

            “I love you too,” Harry said. “Meet us at the motel in about twenty minutes.”

            His date was more than happy to accept the sex invitation, especially after seeing a picture of Duke, which shredded any last hope Harry had that this night would end decently.

The good part about it, he supposed, was that Duke and the man were far more into each other than Harry, which meant that he was left out of the activity, for the most part. It hurt, but he guessed it was better than the alternative.

            As Duke walked their partner to the door and kissed him goodnight, Harry wrapped a bed sheet around his body and went to the bathroom, where he’d barely had the door shut and locked before starting to cry. He hated himself for not being able to say no, for caring what some random guy who had to pay for a date thought about him and, mostly, for crying over all of it, but he couldn’t help it.

            He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there, but he jumped when, a while later, there was a pounding on the bathroom door.

            “Harry, what are you doing in there?” Duke demanded, sounding frustrated.

            “No-nothing,” Harry answered, wincing against the quiver in his voice.

            “Well, hurry up,” Duke said. “Our two hours is going to be up soon. We need to go.”

            “O-okay.”

            “Are you crying?”

            “No.”

            Duke wiggled the door handle, trying to get in, but when he couldn’t, he pounded on the door again.

            “Let me in! What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing!”

            As if the second time around would work, Duke wiggled the door handle again.

            “Harry!” he called, more forcibly that time, which only started Harry’s tears all over again. “Open the damn door!”

            “Just give me a minute!”

            “Did he hurt you?”

            “No!”

            “Open the door, Harry, or I’m about to get really pissed.”

            Obediently, Harry opened the door, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from crying anytime soon and that the evidence would be all over his face for a good while anyway.

            “You said you weren’t crying,” Duke accused. Harry shrugged.

            “I was trying not to.”

            Using one finger, Duke lifted Harry’s chin, studying his face and neck thoroughly before gently removing the bed sheet from around Harry’s body and examining the skin. For some reason, Harry tried to cover himself the best he could with his arms and hands, but Duke kept lightly smacking them away.

            “I don’t see any marks that are out of the ordinary,” he said.

            “I told you, he didn’t hurt me.”

            “Then why are you crying?”

            “Because I hate this!” Harry said, his brain not clear enough to form a believable lie. “I don’t like going on dates and having sex with people that aren’t you!”

            Duke narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. Harry wrapped the sheet around himself again and sniffled; his entire body trembling as he waited for Duke’s response. Finally, he said,

            “You were a whore before this. I don’t see what the issue is.”

            “Because I love you and being with other people feels wrong!”

            “It’s not wrong if I don’t mind it.”

            “I don’t want to do this anymore, Duke.”

            “It’s an easy way to get a third person for a threesome, Harry.”

            “Yeah, and I don’t want to do that anymore either!”

            “So you want me to sacrifice something that makes me happy?”

            “Why can’t I be enough to make you happy?”

            Disgusted, Duke rolled his eyes and dropped his arms to his side.

            “I’m sorry, babe,” he said, not sounding ‘sorry’ at all. “I’m just not meant to be completely monogamous. You knew that from the beginning.”

            Instead of denying it, Harry bit his lip to keep silent. Duke and Louis had been known to have threesomes, but Harry had thought that, with him, maybe Duke wouldn’t want or need to. Clearly, he’d been wrong, and thinking back on it, he didn’t know why he would have thought he would be all someone would need forever anyway.

            “Come on,” Duke said when Harry didn’t reply. “Get dressed. We have to go.”

            There wasn’t a single word exchanged between the two on the ride home. After pulling into the garage and shutting off the car, Duke sighed and turned to Harry.

            “Are you still mad?” he asked. Harry replied by getting out of the car and going inside. Before slamming the car door shut, he heard Duke curse under his breath.

            “You know, sometimes I think I should go date a woman!” Duke called after Harry, who rolled his eyes but kept walking. “Maybe she would know how good she has it; being able to have sex with gorgeous men without her boyfriend getting jealous.”

            “For fuck’s sake; how thick are you?!” Harry, unable to remain quiet any longer, asked as he turned sharply around to face the other man. “I don’t want to have sex with anyone else! That’s the whole point of this argument, isn’t it?!”

            Probably because he didn’t have a good response, Duke rolled his eyes.

            “You’re dramatic,” he told Harry.

            “So you’ve said a million times before,” Harry sighed, and turned again to continue on his way upstairs and to the guest bedroom.

            “I’m getting tired of your little bitch fits, Harry!” Duke yelled.

            Knowing it would probably make him angrier, Harry slammed the door.

            After dealing with everything he’d dealt with that night, Harry decided that he deserved another Twix bar. He’d even planned on not making himself sick afterwards, but then he remembered the disappointment his date had felt when he saw him in person, and how happier Duke seemed to be with him than Harry, so he threw his last quarter bit of the candy away and headed to the bathroom. He didn’t even try to be discreet about it, assuming that if Duke heard, he wouldn’t care, but Harry was mid-purge when Duke began pounding on that bathroom door.

            “Harry! Hey, baby, are you sick?!”

            Harry hesitated with his finger halfway down his throat, and then decided to keep going for it. He’d barely gotten anything up so far, and he had to have at least some dinner and alcohol in his system still, as well as the candy.

            “Harry! Are you sick?!” Duke asked again. When he was met with nothing but the sounds of gagging, he asked, quieter,

            “Are you purging?”    

            Still, Harry didn’t answer; he couldn’t. He’d finally succeeded in getting the rest of what was in him out, and he thought he heard Duke let out a cry over his own sounds.

            “Baby?” he asked once Harry had finally stopped and sat there on his knees, shaking and breathing deeply.

            “I’ll be out in a minute,” Harry said. He wiped his mouth, flushed the toilet and washed his hands, and then he finally opened the door to see his boyfriend standing there; his eyes wide and moist.

            “Harry, love; I’m sorry,” he said, pulling the other man against him and holding him tight enough to stop his body from shaking. “I’m so sorry. You’re enough. I swear you’re enough.”

            Duke didn’t leave Harry’s side for the rest of the night. He made him soup, insisting he had to get something back in his system, and then they showered together. It wasn’t sexual. Duke only touched Harry to wash his hair and body, and then they laid in bed, wrapped up with each other as Duke repeatedly kissed the top of Harry’s head and told him that he loved him. Harry never said it back. In fact, he hadn’t said a word since leaving the bathroom that night; didn’t know if he could. But Duke seemed to understand or, at least, accept it, and Harry eventually fell asleep pressed up against his boyfriend’s muscular, perfect body.

 

            “I think we should get a couple’s tattoo,” Duke stated the next morning. He’d taken the day off to stay with Harry and ‘make things up to his baby.’

            “That didn’t go so well last time,” Harry pointed out, glad that his ability to speak had returned even if he didn’t feel any better.

            “It will this time,” the other promised. “We can get anything you want.”

            “You thought the ones I liked were too cheesy,” Harry reminded the man.

            “If you like them, I do too,” Duke said, earning himself a disbelieving and suspicious look from his boyfriend.

            “I’m serious!” he told him. “I want you to be happy, babe. I’ve been doing a shit job of making that happen recently, so let’s go get a tattoo. I don’t care how cheesy. I love you and I want you and the rest of the world to know.”

            Though he still didn’t feel as if it was a great idea, Harry found himself on the way to Zayn and Louis’s tattoo shop only a little over an hour later.

            When the couple entered, Zayn and Louis were both sitting behind the counter, talking to some guy who was leaning against the surface and smiling widely as he listened to whatever Zayn was saying. He looked away briefly when the bell over the entrance door rang, then put his gaze back to Zayn before doing a quick double-take. The smile quickly slid off his face. If Harry didn’t know better, he would say that the man was even glaring at Duke.

            Confused and wondering if they knew each other, Harry glanced to his boyfriend, who looked a bit frightened, though was clearly trying to play it cool.

            “Hey, babe,” Duke said after clearing his throat, “can you get us set up, please? I forgot that I promised my boss I would at least make a couple calls for him while I’m home today, so I should probably, um…go do that.”

            “Okay…,” Harry said, though Duke had turned and began exiting the shop before he’d even started to speak.

            All three pairs of eyes were now on Harry and he, too, cleared his throat before walking to the counter and standing next to the man who seemed to have spooked his boyfriend so much.

            “Hi,” Harry said, looking at Louis and ignoring Zayn and the stranger’s burning stare.

            “Hi,” Louis said back.

            “We’re here for couple’s tattoos.”

            “Oh, you finally settled on one?” Louis asked with a small grin.

            “Yeah, um, I think we’re going to go with the heart and the arrow.”

            “Alright. Perfect.”

            Louis reached underneath the counter to pull out a blank sheet of paper and a marker.

            “Do you have a picture you want me to base them off of, or…?”

            “Oh, yeah. Hold on.”

            As Harry began looking through the ‘tattoo’ album on his phone (realizing as he did so that he probably didn’t have enough skin for all of these tattoos), he decided that he couldn’t take Zayn and his friend starting at him any longer.

            “What?!” he snapped, looking them both in the eyes, but they didn’t seem bothered.

            “Nothing,” Zayn answered calmly. “You just look lovely today.”

            Harry nearly snarled and looked in the mirror on the counter long enough to fix his hair while simultaneously cringing at his reflection before going back to his phone.

            “I’ll walk you out,” Zayn said to the man that Harry didn’t know, and then did just that; touching the small of his back as he did so.

            Right after they left the shop, Harry found the picture he needed and slid his phone to Louis.

            “Do you want them exactly like this?” he asked.

            “You can do whatever you want with them,” Harry said, waving a hand. “I don’t want to infringe on your artistic creativity or whatever.”

            Louis raised an eyebrow and then giggled.

            “Alright. Thank you for that,” he said, and Harry thought he was making fun of him, but he let it go.

            As Louis began sketching, Duke re-entered the shop.

            “Finish your calls?” Harry asked.

            “I think so,” Duke answered with a slight smile. Still, something was off about it.

            “Did you know that other guy that was in here?” he questioned.

            Louis leaned closer to his paper, and Harry told himself that he was simply trying to stay out of their conversation.

            “What guy? Zayn?” Duke asked.

            “No, the other one,” Harry said with an inkling that Duke knew exactly who he had been talking about.

            “No, I don’t think so,” Duke finally answered. “Why?”

            “I don’t know. That whole ordeal just seemed…strange.”

            “That’s Zayn’s soon-to-be-boyfriend,” Louis piped up, though his nose was still nearly touching his paper. “He’s harmless. Protective, but harmless.”

            Harry nodded, and was alarmed when he saw Duke glaring at Louis the same way Zayn’s ‘soon-to-be-boyfriend’ had been glaring at him.

            “Ooookay…,” Harry said, and left the counter to wait on the couch. Duke sat next to him and held his hand until his phone rang and he went outside yet again to take the call.

            “I’m almost done with yours, Harry,” Louis spoke. “Do you want to come see how it looks so far?”

            Getting off the couch, Harry went back up to the counter to look at his future tattoo.

            “Looks good,” he said, and meant it. Louis’s drawing looked like a better, more detailed version of the heart picture he’d found, and how he had drawn it in such a short amount of time was a mystery to Harry.

            “Cool,” Louis said. “It will be bigger, of course, but we’ll size it after I’m done.”

            “Okay, yeah. You know what you’re doing. I trust you.”

            Louis smiled, and, realizing his words could be misconstrued, Harry almost took them back, but decided not to bother.

            He stayed by the counter, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, until, finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

            “How are you, Louis?” he asked, his tone strained, yet pleasant, and Louis glanced up from his work for only a moment to give Harry a questioning gaze.

            “I’m okay,” Louis said. “Why…?”

            “Just asking.”

            Louis finished a line on the heart and asked,

            “How are you, Harry?”

            “I’m fine,” Harry told him.

            “Good,” Louis said.

            “Did you start cutting again?”

            Louis physically jolted at the question. Harry was glad that his marker had been far away from the paper.

            “No…,” Louis said, though Harry suspected it to be a lie. “Why do you ask?”

            “Well, that cut on your wrist right there is rather deep and worrying.”

            Louis glanced down at his wrist and slid his bracelet down over the mark, tying the strings of the bracelet together tighter so that it wouldn’t come up again.

            “I’m fine, Harry,” he said.

            “You should tell your therapist,” Harry said.

            “ _I’m fine_ ,” Louis said sternly. Then, “What’s going on with you?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “You’re almost acting like you give a shit about me.”

            “You can still turn your life around, Louis,” Harry told him. “It’s never too late.”

            “Wow,” Louis said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Thank you for that motivational speech. It was beautiful, but I don’t know if I should be taking life advice from a bulimic.”

            Harry saw the regret on Louis’s face the moment he said the words.

            “I’m sorry,” he apologized, and he may have been about to say something else, but Harry cut him off.

            “No, that was fair,” he allowed. “I probably am the worst person to give life advice, but I just want you to know that what they did to you doesn’t define you. You can still live a normal life.”

            “‘They?’ Who is ‘they?’”

            “Your parents; the biological ones,” Harry said, and Louis’s expression of confusion quickly turned to one of anger.

            “He told you.”

            “He was just trying to help me understand you a little better.”

            “You don’t understand or know me at all, if I’m being honest, Harry.”

            “It wasn’t your fault,” Harry said next.

            “No, shit. I was a kid.”

            “Are you mad?”

            Harry realized that was a dumb question, as he could see clearly on Louis’s face that he was mad, but he was at a loss for any other response.

            “Let’s just change the subject, please,” Louis said.

            “Okay, but one last thing.”

            “What?” Louis asked hesitantly.

            “I know for a good part of your childhood, that was all you knew, but you don’t have to be like them.”

            “I am not like them,” Louis said in a low, flat voice that actually gave Harry goosebumps. He glanced outside, but Duke was still on the phone and talking with his hands, so the conversation didn’t appear to even be close to over.

            “I’m sorry,” he said to Louis, his voice small, and Louis sighed.

            “Here’s yours,” he said, sliding the sketch over to him. “Do you see anything you want me to change?”

            “No, no. It’s perfect.”

            Louis began on Duke’s arrow just as the man walked back into the shop. Harry nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Though he refrained, Duke still seemed to sense that something had changed since he left.

            “What happened?” he asked. Harry shook his head while Louis remained silent; the only noise coming from him due to his marker sliding gracefully against the paper.

            “Did he hurt you?!” Duke asked loudly.

            “No!” Harry said at the same time that Louis slammed his marker onto the counter.

            “Fuck you!” he spat at Duke. More calmly to Harry, he said, “I’m taking a smoke break. I’ll be right back.”

            “Good,” Duke said, rubbing Harry’s arm as Louis passed the two. “Nobody better hurt my baby.”

            Louis opened the shop door with force and marched right to Zayn’s almost-boyfriend’s car, where the other two were still standing and talking.

***Louis***

            “Want me to kick them out?” Zayn asked when he saw Louis approaching, no doubt looking every bit as enraged as he felt.

            “No,” Louis sighed, taking a long drag from his cigarette and feeling a bit better instantly. “I’m about to cut and burn them with needles, and if that’s not revenge, I don’t know what is.”

            Zayn and Liam both laughed, neither unapologetically.

            “You like Harry, right?” Liam asked, and Louis glared at Zayn.

            “What is this; Tell-Louis’s-Secrets-to-the-World Day?”

            “It’s not much of a secret,” Zayn said with a shrug. “Everybody in our circle knows, and Liam’s basically in our circle now, so I had to let him in on the gossip.”

            Louis’s words seemed to really kick in after that and Zayn frowned.

            “Wait, what are you talking about?”

            “Nothing. Never mind,” Louis sighed again, and took another long drag, closing his eyes as he let the smoke back out. With his eyes still closed, he said,

“And I don’t like him. I love him.”

When Louis opened his eyes again, Liam spoke.

            “Maybe you should tell Harry that he’s dating a husband-beating rapist, assuming he doesn’t already know” he suggested, and Louis snorted.

            “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Louis told him. “They think I was the husband-beating rapist.”

            “Well, why don’t you tell them the truth?”

            “Oh, Liam,” Louis said, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder. “If only it was that easy.”

            “I don’t really see why it’s not,” Zayn said. “Don’t get me wrong, I get why you didn’t say anything at first. You were scared and in shock, but time has passed now. You know you weren’t in the wrong.”

            A beat passed.

            “You _do_ know you weren’t in the wrong, right?”

            “I didn’t need to hurt him as badly as I did,” Louis said. “I could have gotten away with a little less force.”

            “You know that now, but did you know that then?” Liam asked. “Remember, Louis, I’ve been where you were, kind of, and you don’t think when that happens. You act based on your survival instinct, and, look; it didn’t let you down, did it? If you did anything a little differently than you did, maybe you wouldn’t be here.”

            “Nah, he wasn’t going to kill me,” Louis said.

            “He was going to make you want to be dead,” Liam said. It wasn’t a question, but a fact spoken from experience. “That’s just as dangerous.”

            “You know what? I came out here because I thought you two would make me feel better, but you’re not, so I’m going back inside.”

            After throwing the remainder of his cigarette on the ground and stamping it out, Louis turned and headed back towards the shop.

            “Love you, Lou!” Zayn called behind him and laughed when Louis flipped him off.

            Duke and Harry turned as soon as the bell above the door rang, but when neither said anything, Louis asked,

            “Are we going to do this or not?!”

            The two watched as he picked up his marker and paper, and then reluctantly followed him to the back.

            “Harry, do you wanna go first?” Louis asked, as he would much rather touch Harry than his ex-husband.

            “Okay,” he agreed, lowering himself onto the chair. Duke sat nearby, watching intently.

            After placing the sketch of the tattoo and making sure that it was where Harry wanted it and drawn how he liked, Louis prepared the needles, belatedly remembering to have them sign paperwork so neither could sue him.

            “Alright, you ready?” Louis asked once everything was prepared. He wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting, but Harry looked much paler than he had even a couple minutes ago. Still, he nodded.

            “You sure?” Louis said.

            “Yes. Go for it,” Harry said.

            “I’ll apologize in advance, but I may have to lean on you a bit,” Louis told him.

            “It’s okay,” Harry assured him, momentarily closing his eyes before opening them and notably forcing himself to keep a calm expression.

            “Alright,” Louis said again, reluctantly. He was really glad he remembered to have them sign that paperwork.

            “Do you have to lean on him that much?” Duke asked after Louis had gotten into position to begin the tattoo. He wasn’t touching too much of Harry, in his opinion, but given the fact that Harry wanted the tattoo in the middle of the chest and that he was quite a bit taller than Louis, a bit of contact was necessary.

            Before Louis could explain that, Harry spoke, none too kindly, to his boyfriend.

            “Oh, so _now_ you’re worried about someone else touching me?” he asked. Louis felt his eyebrows raise and quickly fought to regain control of his facial expressions, though it didn’t really matter. The other two were paying him no attention anyway; both were glaring at each other.

            “Okay,” Louis said after a moment. “Ready?”

            “Yeah,” Harry said, looking back to Louis for a fleeting moment before closing his eyes again.

            After taking a deep, yet subtle, breath, Louis started up his needle gun and leaned closer to Harry.

            “Breathe,” he told his client, who did, and then, millimeters before the needle touched his skin, he jolted.

            “Wait, wait, wait!” he begged, and Louis did, his heart pounding. Harry was lucky that he had fast reflexes.

            “What’s wrong?” Louis asked. Looking to Duke, Harry answered.

            “Babe, I’m not sure about this.”

            Duke’s lips formed a tight line as he tried to conceal his anger. Not removing his eyes from his boyfriend, he asked,

            “Louis, can you give us a few minutes?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Louis said, and went outside for yet another smoke break. Zayn, who was sitting by the counter and talking to someone on the phone, gave him a questioning look, but Louis simply shrugged.

            He estimated that he’d been outside approximately two minutes before Duke stormed out, marching by Louis without a word or glance. Louis waited for a half a minute, but when Harry didn’t come out, he stamped out yet another unfinished cigarette and went back inside.

            Zayn was still sat behind the counter, but he looked much more distressed than a mere two minutes ago. His hands were covering his ears and his eyes were squeezed shut as he appeared to be mouthing something to himself.

            “Z?” Louis asked, going around the counter to gently touch his friend’s shoulder. He didn’t appear to feel a thing.

            “Zayn!” Louis said a little louder, shaking the other man lightly.

            “So loud, so loud...,” Zayn whispered. Louis pulled one of his arms down.

            “Who’s loud?” he asked, speaking quietly in the hopes that Harry wouldn’t hear. “Duke or…someone else?”

            “He was yelling,” Zayn said, and Louis had to assume he meant Duke. “He was yelling so loud and now everyone else is yelling too.”

            “Okay,” Louis said, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay. They’re not real. You can make them be quiet, remember?”

            “No, it’s too loud! My head hurts. They’re hurting me!”

            In contrast to what he just said, Zayn began hitting himself on the side of the head.  

            “Hey, hey, hey,” Louis said, laying one of his arms across both of  Zayn’s and using the other to retrieve a piece of paper and a marker from under the counter. “I have to go check on Harry, Z, but draw something for me; okay?”

            “Huh?” Zayn asked, blinking at Louis like he’d just woken from a long sleep.

            “Draw me something cool. Maybe for my next tattoo?”

            Zayn stared at Louis for a few moments and then nodded. Louis patted him on the back before fleeing to the room where he’d left Harry with his ex-husband.

            He didn’t know in what state Louis expected to find Harry in, but a wave of relief washed over him when he saw the man standing in the middle of the floor, looking as if he might cry, but otherwise appearing to be okay.

            “We’re not getting tattoos,” he said, his voice quivering. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

            “It’s okay,” Louis told him; at a loss for what else to say. Harry’s lip trembled and he gave a sniffle, but his efforts of fighting against crying were useless and a couple tears slid gracefully down his cheeks, almost as if he had planned it that way.

            Louis took a tissue out of the box by his tattoo station and handed it to Harry.

            “Do you want to talk about it?” he offered. Harry dabbed at his eyes but shook his head.

            “No. I have to go.”

            Without another word, he walked briskly around Louis. However, Louis barely had time to process what had just happened before he heard footsteps running back toward him.

            It was Harry, and there was nothing slow or graceful about his tears then.

            “He left!” the other man cried. “He’s gone! He just…He just left me!”

            “Hey, hey, hey,” Louis said for the second time in just a couple of minutes, which reminded him that he needed to go back and check on Zayn soon. “Don’t worry about it,” he told Harry. “If I could have gotten paid for all the times he ditched me because he was having a hissy fit, that could have been my full-time job.”

            His tone had been light and joking, but it didn’t make Harry smile. He bit his quivering lip and sniffled repeatedly until Louis handed him a couple more tissues.

            “I’ll take you home,” the tattooist offered, and then added, “Or anywhere you want to go.”

            “Home,” Harry said quickly. “I need to go home and fix this.”

            Hearing that broke Louis’s heart because he knew it was going to take a lot more than one person to fix Duke, but he didn’t tell Harry that.

            “Okay,” he said instead. “Let’s go.”

            Louis was happy to see Zayn still at the counter as he led Harry out, though was worried too, as his friend had taken to sitting straight up and staring blankly at the wall. He wasn’t blinking and barely appeared to be breathing.

            “Um…is he okay?” Harry asked, his own breathing labored.

            “I don’t know,” Louis said, and touched Zayn’s shoulder again.

            “Hey, mate,” he told him cheerily, as if nothing was wrong. “It’s just me. Come on; we’re taking Harry home.”

            Zayn didn’t say anything, but he moved enough to allow Louis to help him off of his chair and out the door.

            As soon as they were in Louis’s car, Zayn curled up in the backseat with a blanket he’d found on the floor and went to sleep.

            “Not trying to sound rude, but what’s wrong with him? Was he having a seizure?” Harry whispered.

            “No,” Louis said. “He’s schizophrenic and I guess Duke yelling triggered him.”

            “Oh,” Harry said, looking guilty even though it wasn’t his fault.

            They were silent for the duration of the car ride. Louis didn’t even turn the radio on. The small hum of his old car and Zayn’s shallow breathing were the only noises to be heard.

            “Thanks for the ride,” Harry said when Louis parked outside of the man’s house-and his old one. “And sorry for what I brought up earlier. It wasn’t my place to say anything, but I wanted you to know that it wasn’t your fault they hurt you.”

            “It’s all good,” Louis said nonchalantly, mentally shutting the part of himself off that still physically and emotionally hurt when he thought about his life before his aunt took him in. “I’ve come to learn and accept over the years that there’s just something unlovable about me.”

            He meant the words, though he hadn’t intended for them to come out in such a serious tone. Harry’s face fell.

            “Louis, that’s…that’s just…that’s not true,” he stuttered out. He took a breath.

            “That’s not true,” he said again. “We all have parts of ourselves that are harder to love than others. I get why you have that tough exterior, but maybe show your softer side, yeah? There are better ways to communicate than hurting people to save yourself.”

            Louis didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. With a shrug, Harry sighed.

            “Anyway…Thanks.”

            Harry quickly got out and closed the door, but he turned after a couple steps to wave. Louis returned the gesture and almost smiled, but the bit of happiness and hope he’d felt only lasted a split second. He knew better by now than to think that things between himself and Harry would ever be okay again.

            Not for the first time, he contemplated going back home, though he knew he most likely wouldn’t. He was long passed not wanting to hear his mother’s ‘I told you so’s,’ and she, at least, would accept and love him no matter what he’d supposedly done.

            For a long time, Louis didn’t feel like he belonged in California. He’d been set to head to cooking school when Duke had the bright idea to move and, like an idiot, Louis went against his gut instincts and left with him.

            It wasn’t until meeting Harry that California had felt like home.

           

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't let Louis fool you. Things between Harry and Louis will be more than okay eventually ;) (I'll have to see how everything goes, of course, but I'm hoping to have Duke out in the next 2-3 chapters) :p
> 
> Also, I just wanted to say that I was originally not going to add so much of the stuff that happens between Duke and Harry, as this is a Larry story, but I kind of felt like it was important to show how someone can slowly turn abusive and trick others so they don’t even see the signs. Remember, something feels wrong, it usually is.
> 
> Alright, motivational speech over :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took 20,000 years to post! Life, ya know?

***Louis***

            After dropping Harry off at home, Louis took Zayn to his and Niall’s place. It hadn’t dawned on him until that day that he had no idea where his friend and co-worker actually lived, which was a bit terrifying to him. Of course, Zayn, with his paranoia, might find it safer to have a secluded place that few, if any, people knew about.

            Or maybe Louis was thinking too much into it.

            Zayn was able to get out of the car and walk inside without any help from Louis, but he moved like a zombie. His facial expression was blank and the light in his eyes was completely extinguished. It chilled Louis, and he rubbed his friend’s back for a minute after he’d laid down in his bed and fallen quickly back to sleep. Soon, he moved himself to the floor and doodled distractedly in his notebook while keeping a close eye on Zayn.

            Louis wasn’t sure how mentally aware Zayn had been of his surroundings upon their arrival at the house, and since his perception of reality was already distorted, he didn’t want him waking alone in a place he’d only been to once or twice before.

            The man wasn’t asleep for long; thirty minutes tops, Louis thought. As soon as Zayn started to stir, Louis took a seat as far away from him as he could on the bed (not wanting to startle him) and waited until his eyes opened and a confused expression crossed his face before speaking.

            “Hey, mate,” Louis said gently, making sure to put a soft smile onto his own face. “You alright?”

            Zayn’s eyes traveled to his friend’s, and though he still appeared to be unsure of the situation, he managed to say,

            “Yeah, I’m alright.”

            “You’re in my bedroom,” Louis explained. “Do you remember what happened?”

            “I think so,” Zayn said. “Duke and Harry were fighting at the tattoo shop, right?”

            “Right. You went with us to take Harry home and fell asleep in the car, so I brought you back here.”

            “Oh, yeah,” Zayn said, rubbing his eyes and then sitting up. “I remember that.”

            “Is it quiet now?” Louis asked. A wave of relief washed over him when Zayn nodded.

            “It is,” he vocalized. “Sorry I…uh…freaked out.”

            “No need for apologies,” Louis assured him and then, with a lighter tone, added, “Duke tends to do that to people.”

            Somehow, Zayn offered a slight smile.

            “Are you hungry?” Louis asked when a few moments passed without Zayn saying a word. His own stomach growled, and he only then remembered that neither man had eaten lunch.

            “Um, yeah, kind of,” Zayn answered, scratching at the back of his neck uncomfortably. It took Louis a bit to realize what the problem was, and he felt like a terrible friend when he did.

            “Oh, shit, Z; I’m sorry,” he said. “You can’t eat here, can you?”

            “As long as whatever I’m eating doesn’t have to be microwaved, I think I’ll be okay,” Zayn answered.

            Deciding it would be best not to ask what his deal with microwaves were, Louis nodded.

            “I’m sure we can find something,” he said.

            While the microwave was a no go, Zayn assured Louis that the oven would be fine, and the two ate pizza rolls and had a beer each while sitting in front of the television.

            “I would have cooked for you,” Louis told Zayn as he handed him his beer and took the spot next to him on the couch, “but I was too hungry.”

            “Lou, that’s so romantic,” Zayn said, fluttering his eyelashes. More seriously, he added, “That’s okay. Pizza rolls are great. I’m sure we’ll be hungry again soon, though, so I think you, Niall and I should go out to eat tonight.”

            “You want to go out to eat?” Louis asked, wishing he didn’t sound as shocked as he did, but he was unable to help it. “Like, to a restaurant?”

            “Yeah,” Zayn said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I found out today that one of Liam’s three jobs is a waiter.”

            “Wow. Three jobs?” Louis asked, half in admiration and half wonder over whether Liam was actually crazy.

             “Yeah,” Zayn said.

            “How does he have so much time to see you, then?” Louis asked teasingly.

            “I don’t know, but I’m not complaining,” Zayn said. Finally, a real, full smile was on his face. Then, with his smile faltering, he explained, “Liam started working three jobs when he was still with his ex. It was his excuse to get away from him for a bit.”

            “Poor Liam,” Louis said, hurting for the guy.

            “I know!” Zayn agreed. “Who could harm such a precious creature?!”

            Louis laughed, though it wasn’t funny, and he wished he had the answer.

            Niall was nearly as excited as Zayn was to go to dinner, as he’d heard about ‘this Liam bloke’ but had never actually seen him. Both seemed disappointed when they entered the restaurant and Liam was not immediately inside the doors waiting to greet them and perhaps welcome Zayn with a kiss.

            “Hello! How many?” the host, who was cute, but not quite as drool-worthy as Liam, asked the trio.

            “Three,” Zayn answered. “And could we be sat on Liam’s side, please?”

            “Creeper,” Niall teased under his breath as the bubbly host assured him that he would definitely sit them in Liam’s section and led them away.

            “He told me if I ever come here to eat then I have to sit in his section,” Zayn defended himself.

            “Is this good?” the host asked as he stopped in front of a corner table.

            “Yes, thank you,” Zayn said, and the three took their seats.

            “It was no problem, sir,” the restaurant employee said. “Liam will be with you in just a moment.”

            Zayn smiled and the three thanked the boy before he went on his way.

            As they waited, Niall and Louis flipped through their menus, discussing what drinks they should try, but Zayn remained quiet except for the sound of his fingertips hitting the table as he tapped the surface anxiously.

            “You okay, mate?” Louis asked. Zayn offered a slight grin.

            “I’m fine,” he said. “It’s just…What if he didn’t actually want me to visit him at work?”

            “Well, then he should probably stop coming to visit you at yours,” Louis said. “I mean, seriously; does he need a fourth job? As much as he’s there, we might as well put him to good use and pay him to clean or something.”

            Zayn narrowed his eyes as Louis grinned impishly. Niall chuckled, but the sound got caught in his throat as his eyes widened and he leaned forward curiously.

            “Holy fucking hell, is that him?!” he whispered, causing his friends to follow his gaze to the man walking towards them.

            “Yep, that’s him,” Louis said as Zayn sat up straighter in his chair and tugged down on his shirt before running a hand through his hair.

            “Get it, Zayn,” Niall said even softer, but Zayn pretended he didn’t hear him as Liam neared closer and finally stopped in front of the table.

            Louis knew that Zayn was in denial about a lot of things when it came to Liam’s obvious feelings for him, but he hoped he was able to see the flush of color on their waiter’s face along with the nervous smile and excited glint in his eyes.

            “Hey, guys,” Liam said, and then giggled. Louis took that moment to spare a glance towards Niall, who mouthed the word, ‘precious,’ before turning back to the waiter.

            “Hey,” Zayn returned, appearing cool, as always. His smile was kind, though; much softer than the smirk-smile he’d worn around Liam until recently. Louis almost felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment.

            “I didn’t expect you to come so soon,” Liam said.

            “We can leave if you want,” Zayn offered, acting as if he were about to stand, and Liam quickly shook his head.

            “No! Not at all,” he told him. “I’m glad you came by.”

            Zayn smiled again, which made Liam’s grin grow wider, and the two simply stared at each other for a few solid seconds before Liam cleared his throat and flipped through his notepad.

            “Okay, um…what would you like to drink?”

            Despite having his notepad out, Liam didn’t write anything down as the three gave their orders, and after repeating them once, he ventured to the kitchen to put them in.

            “That was the single most precious thing I have ever witnessed,” Niall announced, and Zayn kicked him lightly under the table. Niall laughed and then said,

            “Seriously, though, he’s fucking hot.”

            “Back off, he’s mine,” Zayn warned. Louis thought he was joking, but he wouldn’t bet his life on it.

            “Mate, I couldn’t get with that even if I tried! He’s clearly all about you! He didn’t even care to be introduced to me.”

            “Don’t take it personally,” Louis told Niall. “Everyone else is barely an afterthought when Zayn’s around.”

            Zayn narrowed his eyes, but some color had started rising to his cheeks as well.

            “So bloody adorable,” Louis said, earning himself a kick from under the table.

            It didn’t take long for Liam to arrive with the group’s drinks and take their food order. Realizing that he had yet to even glance at the food section of his menu, Louis opened it up and ordered the first dish he saw. He had a feeling that Niall did the same. Zayn, however, told Liam to ‘surprise’ him; a request that seemed to stress Liam out greatly.

            “Uh…what?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

            “Surprise me,” Zayn repeated. “Bring me your go-to meal, please.”

            “Oh…um…okay,” Liam said, and belatedly remembered to smile. “Do you have any allergies or, um, major food dislikes?”

            “I don’t eat anything that comes from a pig, but besides that, I’m not picky.”

            “Okay,” Liam said again, though he didn’t seem to be very ‘okay.’ “Would any of you like anything while you wait?”

            They all told Liam that they were fine, so, with a nod, the man turned to go, but then paused before looking back at Niall with an apologetic expression on his face.

            “I’m Liam, by the way,” he said, and Louis almost snorted out loud. “Sorry; I meant to introduce myself earlier but I’m a little…discombobulated today.”

            Louis didn’t have to ask what the reason for that could be.

            “It’s okay,” Niall said, giving Zayn’s crush a reassuring smile. “I’m Niall; Louis’s flat mate.”

            “Has it been a rough day, then?” Zayn interrupted, and Liam looked confused before remembering where the question came from. He shook his head.

            “No, not really,” he answered, but then Louis could almost see the lightbulb that went off in his head.

            “I could use a drink, though,” Liam said. “Would you lot want to meet at Tigerheat when I get off around ten?”

            “What’s that?” Zayn asked. “I don’t get out much.”

            “It’s a gay club about twenty minutes away,” Liam said, and in the next instant, a look of fear crossed his face and he rushed to add,

            “but if gay clubs aren’t your guys’ kind of thing, we can just go to a bar or…somewhere else.”

            Louis thought that Liam might be too worn out to go anywhere by the time they left, given how he was switching emotions every thirty seconds. ‘Heartbroken’ was added to that list of emotions when Zayn said,

            “I’m straight, actually, so I’m not sure that will work.”

            Feeling bad that Liam didn’t get the joke and stood there looking as if his entire world was falling apart around him, Louis forced out a loud laugh.

            “Sorry,” he apologized when the others glanced his way. “Trying to picture Zayn with a woman was pretty comical.”

            Liam smiled, but still was unsure. He didn’t fully relax until Zayn said,

            “Hey, I’m only, like, ninety percent gay.”

            Looking only to Liam, he said,

            “And I’ll see you at Tigerheat at ten.”

            After Liam left to put in their orders, Louis scolded Zayn for giving the poor man a heart attack. Niall theorized that Liam was probably crying in the freezer as they spoke.

            While waiting on their food to get done, Liam brought Zayn a new water even though his was less than a quarter of the way gone. Naturally, Louis and Niall commented on how adorable that was while Zayn insisted that he was simply an excellent waiter.

            Liam was notably stressed as he waited for Zayn to try the burger he’d ordered him. He appeared to be holding his breath to the point where Louis was afraid he was going to pass out. When Zayn swallowed the first bite and told Liam that it was ‘delicious,’ he let out an audible breath.

            If those two didn’t have a solid date planned by the end of the night, Louis was going to shake them both.

            Zayn didn’t eat much, which made Liam worry that he didn’t truly like the burger at all, but Zayn assured him that he simply didn’t eat a lot at one time, but that he was going to take the rest of the food home and eat it tomorrow.

            After the trio had paid and they were standing to leave, Liam stopped by one more time.

            “Hey, uh, so…Are you guys still planning to go to the club?” he asked.

            “Yes,” Zayn answered right away. “Ten o’ clock, right?”

            “Yeah,” Liam said, smiling.

            “Cool,” Zayn said. “Why don’t you take my number, just in case we can’t find each other once we get there?”

            _Smooth_ , Louis complimented his friend in his mind. Liam, meanwhile, was starting to blush again.

            “That’s a good idea,” he said. “I don’t have my phone with me, though.”

            “I’ll write it on the receipt,” Zayn said, and did just that. Liam was beaming.

            “Aces. Thanks!” he said, holding onto the receipt for dear life.

            “No problem. See you soon.”

            To his honor, Zayn waited until they had driven out of the parking lot to scream and throw himself across the backseat.

            Though he was clearly nervous about it, Zayn told Niall where he lived so that he could go there and get changed before heading to the club. In the end, it took Zayn an hour to get ready and he spent the remaining hour and-a-half before they had to leave freaking out. What if Liam changed his mind and didn’t come out? What if he forgot? What if it weirded him out that Zayn gave him his number? What about all the other gorgeous, non-schizophrenic men that would be at the club lusting over ‘his man?’

            Despite Niall and Louis both telling him that Liam wouldn’t change his mind or forget, it didn’t weird him out when Zayn gave him his number and those other men at the club wouldn’t stand a chance, Louis knew Zayn wouldn’t feel completely confident until Liam met up with them that night. Even then, much of his confidence would be fake, but he couldn’t feel too bad for the man when he’d found his soul mate; knowing that eventually, everything between the two would somehow work out.

            Even though it was a Thursday night and Niall had to be at work early in the morning, he insisted on coming out with them. Figuring he would drink less than the other two, he decided to drive. Zayn, again, was in the backseat on the way to the club, and when they were about halfway there, he let out a gasp.

            “What’s wrong?” Louis asked, turning in his seat to look at his friend, who was gaping at his phone.

            “I have a text from a number that isn’t in my contacts,” he said.

            “Liam?” Louis guessed.

            “I don’t know. I haven’t read the message.”

            “Read the text, you twat,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes.

            “You read it,” Zayn said, holding his mobile out for Louis. “I can’t guarantee that whatever I read won’t be my eyes playing tricks on me.”

            Louis took the phone after Zayn opened the message and read it silently first. When he smiled, Zayn shrieked.

            “What does it say?!”

            “‘Hey, Zayn! It’s Liam. I got out of work a little late, so it might be a bit past ten when I get there. Sorry! Can’t wait to see you soon.’”

            “That’s not what it says,” Zayn accused, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

            “Cross my heart,” Louis told him, handing him the device. Zayn read the message over for himself and then smiled.

            “They’re sickening,” Niall joked. Zayn either ignored him or didn’t hear.

            As soon as they entered the loud and crowded club, Zayn’s entire body twitched. Louis had to shout to ask if he was okay, but Zayn nodded and followed Niall, who made a beeline to the bar.

            “Have to get my drinking done early!” the Irishman had said.

            Sensing Zayn’s agitation, Louis held off on ordering a drink. He kept staring at Zayn, trying to figure out what was going on, but Zayn was pointedly not looking back.

            There was a Britney Spears tribute going on that night, so after Niall received his drink, the friends made their way to the stage. It didn’t take long for a man to approach them, and he touched Niall around the waist as he came up from behind them. With it being so loud, Louis couldn’t quite hear what was said, but he gathered that the stranger had asked if Niall was involved with either of the other two and when he was told no, he began whispering something in Niall’s ear. Whatever it was made Niall grin wider than Louis had ever seen.

            “Maybe we should leave them alone,” he said to Zayn, who looked paler than usual and had a blank expression on his face again.

            “Can we go outside?” he asked, pointing towards the doors. Louis nodded, motioned to Niall what they were doing but insisted he could stay in, and then he followed his friend out; the two holding hands so they wouldn’t get separated.

            “What’s wrong?” Louis asked as Zayn took a cigarette from his back pocket and lit it with shaking hands. He offered one to Louis, who declined.

            “I took my medicine,” Zayn said, sounding defeated. “I don’t know why they won’t shut up.”

            “You don’t like loud noises, do you?” Louis asked. There had been a couple times, while the two were at the hospital, where a patient would lose their temper and start yelling at doctors. Even though their anger wasn’t expressed towards Zayn, he had fled, and by the time Louis found him, he would be nearly catatonic; much like how it had been earlier when Duke had yelled at Harry.

            “I’m okay with most loud noises. I just don’t like shouting, and I don’t think they’ve fully calmed down from earlier,” Zayn said. With a sigh, he explained, “When people are mad and yell, it reminds me of when my step dad would yell at my mum and stuff, and I couldn’t help her.”

            Louis rubbed Zayn’s shoulder.

            “Do you want to tell me what they’re saying?” he asked.

            With another sigh, Zayn bit his lip and then, after a bit of hesitation, he spoke again.

            “It’s just Isabelle,” he said. “She keeps telling me that I’m weak and stupid and not good for anyone or anything.”

            Before Louis could tell him that none of that was true, a voice from behind them did that for him.

            “Pardon my language,” the man said, “but whoever this Isabelle person is, they’re a liar and a bitch.”

            Louis could tell by the horror on Zayn’s face that he knew exactly who had spoken. It was kind of funny, Louis thought, how Liam always showed up like that. Some might even say it was fate.

            “Hi…,” Zayn said, turning slowly around to face his crush.

            “Hey,” Liam said. He offered a small smile, but he looked sad and worried; maybe even a little mad. “I ran into Niall and he told me you two came out here. You don’t believe this ‘Isabelle’ do you?”

            “No,” Zayn said right away, even though Louis knew a big part of him did.

            “Good,” Liam said. “I know this isn’t really my place, but maybe you should cut her out of your life.”

            “I’m working on it,” Zayn said. “Cigarette?”

            Liam accepted the offer and let Zayn light him up.

            “How did the rest of work go?” Zayn asked.

            “It was alright,” Liam said. “Oh, I wanted to ask you how it all went with Harry and that wanker today.”

            “Awful,” Louis spoke up, just in case the memory of it triggered something in Zayn. “Harry decided that he didn’t want a tattoo, so they got in a screaming war in the middle of the shop and then Duke left without him.”

            “Jesus Christ,” Liam said with a roll of his eyes. “Such a winner, that one.”

            “Idiots keep staying with him, so he must be doing something right,” Louis said with a shrug.

            “Must be the biceps,” Liam teased.

            “His biceps have nothing on yours,” Zayn commented, not hiding the fact that he was looking Liam up and down, but focusing mainly on his arms, which were entirely visible in his tight muscle shirt.

            By the expression on Liam’s face, Louis knew he was starting to blush yet again.

            “Pardon _my_ language,” Zayn spoke again, “but, fuck, you look good.”

            Liam smiled while biting the inside of his lip and, in turn, looked Zayn up and down.

            “Do you want a drink?” he asked.

            “I’d love one,” Zayn said. Liam nodded, beginning to puff his cigarette quicker, and then he remembered Louis.

            “Do you want one, Lou?” he asked.

            “No, thanks,” he said. “I think I’m going to go cockblock Niall, but you two have fun!”

            “Good luck. He was headed towards the toilets with some guy,” Liam told him.

            “Ew. Okay, thanks.”

            Louis was just inside the door when someone grabbed his arm. With a slight scream, he whipped his body around to see Niall holding his hands up defensively.

            “Sorry, it was just me,” he said.

            “Wow. That was quick,” Louis commented. Upon his confused expression, Louis explained, “Liam said you and lover boy were headed to the toilets.”

            “Oh,” Niall said, and rolled his eyes. “He was trashed and ended up vomiting all over the stall. I got him back to his mates and went on my way. Actually, I was just coming to find you.”

            “Sorry, mate,” Louis told him, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, he wasn’t all that cute.”

            “Yeah, I know. Anyway, that isn’t important now. I have to tell you something.”

            “What is it?”

            “Harry’s here.”

            “Okay?” Louis said, unsure of why Niall would want Louis to know that. He hated the idea of Louis and Harry together and hoped that one day Louis would forget him.

            “He’s here conducting business…,” Niall said. Louis felt his eyes grow huge as his heart dropped.

            “Oh, no,” he said, and headed off to find him, but Niall grabbed his arm again.

            “He was this way,” he told Louis, and led him away.

            When the two came across Harry, he was sitting back against a couch, his eyes wide and blank as some bloke on top of him all but humped him, biting his ear while whispering into it.

            Niall stayed back while Louis marched up to the two.

            “Excuse me,” he said, none too politely. The two heard him, he knew, because even Harry, in his altered state, looked towards the sound of the voice, but neither one made a move.

            “Excuse me!” he said again but didn’t wait for a reply and shoved the stranger to the side. He fell dramatically onto the couch and yelled out profanities and slurs, but Louis simply pulled Harry up and dragged him away. He was nearly as easy to navigate as a rag doll.

            It wasn’t until the two reached the outside-Niall had either stayed behind or gotten lost along the way-that Louis heard Harry meekly protesting.

            “No. Stop,” he was saying, with barely any emotion in his voice. “Where are we going? What are you doing, Louis?”

            “What are _you_ doing, Harry?” Louis returned as he spun around to face Harry. He kept a hold on his wrist, not trusting that he wouldn’t run away, or try to.

            As soon as he asked the question, tears welled up in Harry’s eyes.

            “I’m working,” he said.

            “Working?” Louis repeated.

            “Yeah…because Duke made me leave.”

            “For good?”

            “Yes,” Harry answered, his voice breaking as his tears started falling onto his cheeks. “Obviously.”

            “Do you need somewhere to stay?”

            “Obviously,” Harry said again. “That’s why I’m trying to work!”

            Louis knew Harry probably didn’t make a lot of money at the salon, but surely he should have enough to stay at a hotel for a couple of nights. Of course, being the control freak that he was, it wouldn’t surprise Louis if Duke had the money.

            “I’m sure your sister would let you stay with her,” Louis told Harry.

            “She’s on vacation,” Harry said. He gave a small, sad whine, breaking Louis’s heart for the umpteenth time.

            “You can stay with me,” he offered. He expected Harry to say no, but the way the offer made him cry even harder was unnecessary, Louis thought.

            Harry shook his head.

            “I’m not a charity case!” he said.

            “I didn’t say you were,” Louis pointed out.

            “I need to be independent!” Harry said. “I need to stop relying on men that are never going to stay! God damn it; why don’t they ever stay?!”

            If Harry were Louis’s, Louis would stay forever, but he knew that Harry wouldn’t want to hear that. Before he would have had time to tell him anyway, the club doors were thrown open and in the next instant, Louis was slammed against the wall. His breath was taken from him and, for a moment, he wondered if his back was broken. Belatedly, he heard Harry scream. 

            “Stop it!” he told the guy who had Louis pinned. It didn’t take long for Louis to figure out that he was the man from whom he’d stolen Harry. “Let him go!”

            Naturally, the man ignored Harry.

            “Who do you think you are; taking my fun away from me?” he asked Louis. “I found him first. Why don’t you take your own damn place in line?”

            Louis wished that he could think of witty comebacks in times of panic, but instead, his brain seemed to power off and he was left staring at the man as if he were a mute.

            “Get off!” Harry said again, pulling on the man’s arm, but the stranger swung back, hitting Harry in the face so hard that he fell to the ground.

            Seeing Harry hurt fueled some adrenaline in Louis, and he managed to swing forward enough to kick the other right in the crotch. With an angry and pained yell, he let go of Louis, who nearly fell to the ground as well, but steadied himself and rushed to Harry. He was just rising to his feet.

            “Are you okay?” Louis asked. Harry nodded, but then his eyes grew wide. Louis was about to turn around when Harry threw him out of the way of their nemesis’s reach. With a huff, he aimed to punch Harry next, but Harry blocked him. Louis almost cheered out loud, but it was too early to celebrate. His former friend-or whatever he was to be called-had a hold of the other man’s fist with one of his hands, but he was visibly struggling, so Louis placed a hand on the stranger’s shoulder. He spun so fast that Louis didn’t have time to block the full punch, but he’d been prepared and managed to slam his own fist into the guy’s jaw right after.

            “Stop it! Both of you!” Harry yelled. Louis was aware that there was a crowd forming around them, but before he could decide what to do, his back was against the wall again and the stranger’s hands were around his throat, choking him.

            Harry let out a bloodcurdling scream, as if he was the one being murdered. He hit, kicked and pulled on the man with all he had, but the only thing he succeeded in was tightening the other’s grip on Louis’s neck.

            At least Louis could die with the knowledge that Harry tried to save his life. That brought a strange sense of peace to him. Or maybe that was his brain’s defense against the lack of oxygen.

            Just as Louis’s vision was starting to blur and the screams of those nearby grew fainter, he was jolted back to consciousness by an intense pain to his tailbone. He heard himself gasp before he realized he was breathing, and he felt Harry lift him from under the arms before the knowledge hit that he’d fallen to the ground. When he was finally able to focus on his surroundings, he saw the man that had nearly murdered him on the ground twitching; his eyes rolling back in his head.

            “Wha-” he started to ask, but Harry interrupted.

            “No time,” he said. “We have to go.”

            With his hand in Louis’s, he started to run, nearly making Louis fall to the ground, but he righted himself and eventually regained full control of his legs. It was only then that he heard the police sirens.

            “Shit!” he yelled.

            “Why do you think we’re running?!” Harry asked, and the two quickened their strides, never letting go of each other until they were in the first open restaurant they found around the block.

            “Shit! Oh my god!” Harry said, doubling over a bit and leaning his forehead against Louis’s.

            “Are you okay?” Louis asked again.

            “ _Me_?! Am _I_ okay?!” Harry asked incredulously as he pulled away from Louis to look at him like he was crazy. The whole ordeal with the other man seemed to have sobered him up quite a bit. “I wasn’t the one who was nearly choked to death!”

            “I’m fine,” Louis said, unsure whether he was actually ‘fine’ or still in shock, but he felt okay for the time being.

            “You’re going to have fingerprint bruises on your neck,” Harry commented, gently touching the area. Louis shivered and hoped he didn’t notice.

            “I’m fine,” he said again. “Maybe people will think I was getting kinky.”

            “Oh my god,” Harry said with a laugh and a roll of his eyes.

            “What happened to that guy anyway?” Louis asked.

            “Some girl tazed him,” Harry explained.

            “My hero,” Louis said. The other nodded.

            “What do you want to do now?” he asked.

            “Go eat?” Louis suggested.

            After they were seated and given waters, Louis sent Niall and Zayn a text to tell them where they were. He didn’t receive a reply, but a few minutes later, he saw his friends walking in with Liam close behind them.

            “Babe, what happened?” Niall, in perfect character, asked as he slid into the booth beside Louis and gave him a kiss. Despite the act, the look of terror on his face was genuine.

            “Harry and I got into a fight with some bloke who tried to choke me out. No big deal,” Louis said nonchalantly.

            “Is that why the police were there?” Liam, who had sat next to Harry, asked. After a quick, yet noticeable, internal debate, Zayn took the spot next to Liam, forcing Harry to scoot closer to the wall.

            “I think so,” Louis said. “We ran.”

            “Obviously,” Niall noted. He, too, touched the bruised area of Louis’s neck.

            “I’m going to fucking kill somebody,” he said.

            “No, you’re not,” Louis told him. Niall looked like he wanted to argue, but the waiter came to the table then to take orders.

            As they ate, the group engaged in light chat, dropping the subject of the fight like it had never happened. Harry stayed pretty quiet, but he ate and didn’t excuse himself to go to the toilets afterward, so Louis felt good about the night.

            After paying (Liam paid for Zayn’s meal, which made Niall beam), the group stood to leave. Harry hesitated.

            “Oh, you need somewhere to stay, right?” Louis asked.

            “I’ll just sleep in my car. It’s fine,” Harry said, but Louis shook his head.

            “No. That’s not necessary. You’re coming home with Niall and me.”

            Niall gave Louis a look as if to ask, ‘he is?’ but Louis ignored it.

            “I might as well just sleep in my car,” Harry insisted. “Nothing is going to change from tonight to tomorrow unless I get some money quick.”

            “We’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow,” Louis said. “Come on, mate. You kind of saved my life tonight, so it’s the least I could do.”

            “I’m not the one that tazed that tosser,” Harry said.

            “What the fuck?” Zayn asked aloud. Louis ignored him.

            “Just stay with us,” Louis insisted. “We don’t mind, do we, Niall?”

            “Not at all,” Niall said. He was probably lying, but Louis would pretend otherwise.

            “Just for tonight,” Harry caved after a long hesitation.

            “Fine,” Louis said. “Let’s go.”

            Since Liam had taken an Uber to the club, Niall offered to drive him home, and Liam accepted. He and Zayn sat in the back with Harry, and though it should have been crowded, Harry, in the least, had plenty of room, as the other two were nearly right on top of each other.

            “Thanks for the ride, Niall,” Liam said once the driver parked in front of his apartment.

            “No problem,” Niall said.

            “And thanks for coming out,” Liam said to Zayn, who smiled.

            “I had fun,” he said.

            “I did, too,” Liam agreed. “See you soon?”

            “I hope so.”

            Liam nodded, looked at Zayn for a couple seconds longer, and then said a quick goodbye to the others before getting out of the car. Niall waited until he was inside of his apartment to drive away.

            “I’m taking it that went well?” he said to Zayn.

            “I guess so,” Zayn said, but the smile on his face hinted that it had gone very well indeed. “He bought me a couple of drinks and we talked.”

            “Sounds promising,” Niall told him. Zayn shrugged.

            “I guess,” he said again. Niall and Louis shared private grins, but otherwise let the subject drop.

            “What?” Zayn asked.

            “Huh?” Niall returned.

            “What did you say?”

            “No one said anything.”

            “Oh.”

            Glancing into the rearview mirror, Louis saw Harry looking at Zayn worriedly.

            “Do you want to stay over tonight too, Z?” Niall asked their friend. “It can be a proper slumber party!”

            Zayn laughed, but shook his head.

            “Thanks, but that’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

            “You sure?”

            “Yeah.”

            So Niall dropped Zayn off at home, insisting that he get a hold of himself or Louis if Zayn needed anything. Zayn promised he would, but he was already on his phone, smiling as he quickly typed away to someone else, so Louis guessed that Liam would preoccupy him until he fell asleep.

            Once home, Louis took Harry to his room.

            “You and Niall don’t sleep in the same bedroom?” Harry asked, causing Louis to mentally slap himself.

            “Usually we do,” Louis said. “This was my room before we got together and I still come in here if I can’t sleep or something so that I don’t keep Niall awake.”

            “Oh,” Harry said, staring at a pair of socks that was left on the floor.

            “Last night was one of those nights,” Louis explained.

            “Do you have insomnia?” Harry asked.

            “No. Sometimes my brain just gets overloaded and won’t turn off.”

            “Oh.”

            A few beats of silence passed.

            “Do you need anything?” Louis asked their guest.

            “Do you think Duke will ever take me back?” Harry asked, his voice small, almost as if he hadn’t wanted to be heard.

            “Probably,” Louis said with dread in his gut. He couldn’t count how many times Duke had made him leave only to call him one or two nights later, apologizing and crying.

“Do you really want him back though?” he added.

“Of course,” Harry said. “I love him.”

By now, those words aimed at someone else shouldn’t still hurt Louis, but they did.

            “Get some sleep and maybe you will know what to do in the morning,” Louis suggested. Harry nodded.

            “Okay,” he agreed. “Thanks for letting me crash here. Sorry you almost died because of me.”

            “That’s okay,” Louis assured him. “I’m ready to check out anyway.”

            He’d forgotten that Harry didn’t find his jokes about death funny; perhaps because he knew the small bit of truth hidden in them.

            “Good night! Feel free to get up and get food or whatever you need.”

            “Alright. Thanks.”

            Louis expected Niall to already be sound asleep when he entered the bedroom, but he was awake, sitting up in bed and looking at the doorway, waiting for him.

            “You know you have to be awake in less than five hours,” Louis reminded him.

            “I know,” Niall said. “I might call off tomorrow. We’ll see.”

            After stripping down to his underwear, Louis crawled in bed next to the other man and kissed him on the cheek.

            “Go to sleep,” he instructed. Niall ignored it.

            “You could have died tonight.”

            “But I didn’t.”

            “Yeah, and I’m grateful for that, but, damn it, Lou, I heard some bird talking to the police. She said she thought you had already died, but then you got up and ran off.”

            “That’s a bit dramatic of her,” Louis said. “I’m fine, Niall.”

            “I don’t like that trouble always seems to be around you whenever Harry is involved.”

            “I’m fine,” Louis said again. He kissed Niall on the lips that time and then laid down and closed his eyes. The other’s gaze was burning into him, but after a half a minute of Louis pretending not to notice, Niall sighed and turned off the light. He kissed Louis on the forehead before laying down and throwing his arm across the other man’s body.

            “Harry tried to save me,” Louis said, not opening his eyes so that he couldn’t see the judgement in Niall’s. “Maybe he doesn’t hate me.”

            “Or maybe he’s just not a completely awful person who wants to see a human life end right before their eyes.”

            When Louis didn’t reply, Niall sighed again.

            “‘Night, Lou. I love you.”

            “Wait, Ni?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Do you think I should tell Harry the truth about Duke? And about myself?”

            “I one hundred percent think you should tell _everyone_ the truth, but if you’d like to start with Harry, go for it.”

            “Okay,” Louis said, excitement and anxiety making his heart race. “Maybe in the morning.”

            “I really hope you do, Lou.”

            Louis didn’t sleep well that night as he brainstormed the words he would say as he finally came clean. There were multiple times he decided that he couldn’t do it only to later conclude that he could-and would.

            But when he finally pulled himself out of bed the next morning to check on Harry and determine how close to waking he was so the two could talk, he discovered that Harry was gone. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Spoiler alert/trigger warning!!!*** 
> 
> There is another case of sexual assault (it doesn't get to 'rape') in this chapter, and it is a bit more detailed than I ever planned on being with this story, but I didn't know of this event until recently and I think it's important in the real life story, so I've added it here. It isn't a long part, but I understand that it could still be triggering, so I bolded the text for that part if you want to skim over it or skip it. The details in those parts aren't too important as long as you know something happened. Ok, now onto the story!

***Harry***

            For hours, Harry tossed and turned, occasionally punching his-or, rather, Louis’s-pillow. Part of him wished that he had stayed in his car so that he could scream too.

            He felt weird in Louis’s room. He hadn’t done anything to deserve to be there. Louis had almost died because of him that very night, so, in Harry’s opinion, Louis should have run off without him and let whatever was going to happen to him, happen.

            Harry didn’t know why Louis cared about him so much, or at least pretended to. He didn’t know what the other man could possibly want from him, but Harry was learning that men only pretended to care about him when he had something to offer.

            Three hours passed and Harry had yet to catch a wink of sleep. He was sweating as if he had a fever and he even felt sick, though he knew he wasn’t, really. Harry was simply in the middle of a full-blown anxiety attack; one that was making him want to rip his hair right out of his head.

            Needing air, Harry got out of bed, put his shoes on and went outside. He went out front, locking the deadbolt behind him, and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. Dizzy, he sat on the porch step and put his head between his knees, continuing to breathe like that until he stopped sweating and no longer felt like he was going to throw up.

            Shaking, Harry lifted his head. The night wasn’t particularly cold, but Harry now found himself shivering. Still, he was in a much better condition than a mere few minutes ago, so, deciding to go back inside and maybe soon get some sleep, Harry rose to his feet.

            It was only when he went to open the door that he realized he’d locked himself out.

            _You idiot_ , Harry said to himself, outwardly rolling his eyes at his own stupidity.

            Harry couldn’t find it in himself to be too upset, though, because he knew he didn’t belong at Louis and Niall’s house. He shouldn’t have ever been there in the first place, so this was kind of like karma, he supposed.

            After debating for only an instant on whether or not to ring the doorbell and ask for re-admittance, Harry turned on his heel and walked away from the house. He didn’t know where he was going, but he let his legs do the thinking for him. His brain was too tired for all of that anyway.

            Eventually, when the sun started to peek out, Harry hit his limits. If he didn’t sit down in sixty or so seconds, he was surely going to faint.

            Luckily, he was right by a park when that feeling struck, and Harry walked about two hundred feet to a bench, where he then collapsed. He was asleep within the minute.

            By the time Harry woke up, the sun was shining bright. He sighed, dreading the fact that he was awake, right before panic struck again. In the chaos of the previous night, time had become irrelevant to him, but now that he’d had time to rest, he realized that it was Friday and, currently, he was missing work.

            Sitting up quickly, Harry reached into the pocket where he normally kept his phone, but it wasn’t there. At first, he thought someone must have stolen it while he slept on the bench, but then he remembered that he’d left Duke’s house without it. Either way, he had no way of contacting Lottie, and with a groan, he laid back down, accepting the fact that he was probably fired.

            Harry had been to some pretty low points before, but right there crying on that park bench after a night of drinking, getting high and trying to sell his body, after which his former crush had nearly died trying to help him, was definitely one of the lowest points that Harry had reached.

            Briefly, he thought about ending his life. He had a few dollars on him; enough to buy some rope and hang himself from a tree. Or he could always find the Golden Gate Bridge and jump off of it. He didn’t really care; just wanted to be done with this life.

            But that was when he realized that he didn’t have to die to be done with his current life. As of that moment, no one knew where he was, nor did they have any means of contacting him. It was the perfect opportunity to run away.

            With a burst of adrenaline, Harry stood off the bench and ran to the streets. He stood on the edge of the sidewalk, signaling for someone to stop and, after a bit, someone did.

            “Thanks!” Harry said as he hopped into the middle aged-man’s pickup truck.

            “Where are you trying to get to?” the stranger asked.

            “Anywhere that isn’t here,” Harry answered, and he smiled as the two drove away.

***Louis***

            Harry went back to Duke. Louis knew he shouldn’t have expected otherwise, but it still hurt.

            After discovering that he’d left the house, Louis sent Harry numerous texts asking where he was and if he was okay. He was about to try and get police on his trail when Harry sent him a text reading,

            _I’m back home safe, don’t worry._

Of course, Louis was still going to worry, and as the next few days passed, he realized he had good reason.

            Harry was refusing to talk to anyone and he’d even notified Lottie that he was quitting his job at the salon via text. When anyone asked, he assured them through messaging that he was ‘fine.’ To Gemma, he even claimed that he was happier than he had been for a while, but Louis had a bad feeling deep in his gut.

            That feeling kept him awake for four consecutive nights until Harry finally got in contact with him again.

            _We need to talk_ , he had said, through text message only, of course. _Duke is at work if you want to come over._

Louis didn’t have to be asked twice.

            For some reason, the bad feeling was still in the pit of his stomach when he arrived at Duke and Harry’s house, and the reason ‘why’ made itself known when Louis rang the doorbell and his ex-husband answered it. With a gasp, Louis backed away from the door so fast that he nearly fell off the front porch step.

            “I knew you would come for Harry,” Duke commented, an amused smile on his face. Grabbing Louis quickly, the man pulled him into the house, locking the door behind them.

            “Where’s Harry?” Louis asked, his voice noticeably shaking.

            “Not here,” Duke replied simply.

            “He wasn’t the one who text me, was he?” Louis said next.

            “No.”

            “Where is Harry?!” Louis asked again, more urgently that time.

            “I don’t know,” Duke said. He appeared completely calm.

            “Has he come home at all?”

            Duke smiled, and there was an evil behind it that chilled Louis to the bone.

            “You’ve been the one texting everyone on Harry’s phone for days!” Louis accused. “God, what is wrong with you?!”

            Louis tried to get past Duke, but his ex shoved him backwards and leaned against the door, blocking him in.

            “Duke, we have to find Harry!” Louis said. “No one has heard from him in four days!”

            Louis felt really sick and was even starting to shake. Still, Duke was unaffected.

            “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said.

            “What have you done to him?!” Louis asked.

            “Nothing. I’m sure he’s fine.”

            “He’s missing, Duke!”

            “Harry is a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

            “No, he can’t!”

            “Sh, baby,” Duke said, reaching out to stroke Louis’s cheek. With a grimace, Louis lightly smacked his hand away.

            “Come on, don’t be this way,” Duke continued, wrapping his arms around Louis’s waist and pulling him against his body. “This is a good thing. Now we can be together again.”

        **“I don’t want to be with you!” Louis said, pushing against Duke’s chest to try and escape, but the man tightened his grip around his waist with one arm while he used his free hand to hold the back of Louis’s head as he forced a kiss onto his lips. Louis shrieked in protest, hitting the other man in the chest, but Duke expertly swept the smaller man up into his arms and made his way up the stairs. Louis screamed.**

**“Stop it! Let go of me!” he yelled, frantically hitting, kicking and scratching, but his ex barely made any facial expression.**

**Upon arriving in the bedroom, Duke ripped Louis’s shirt off of him with one hand and then threw the man onto the bed, where he quickly crawled on top of him and pinned him down.**

**“Duke! No!” Louis said, wriggling with all his might, but he was no match for the monster on top of him.**

**Louis wanted to cry, but he already felt physically weak; he didn’t want to feel emotionally weak as well.**

**“I always win, Lou,” Duke hissed, licking Louis’s neck before forcing his tongue into Louis’s mouth. Louis bit down and, with a shriek, Duke smacked him before unbuckling his belt and biting onto Louis’s collarbone so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if it was bleeding.**

**Coming to terms with the fact that this was going to happen and there was nothing he could do about it, Louis closed his eyes and imagined himself away. He’d gotten quite good at that when he was a kid and still in the hands of his biological parents, and being with Duke had only furthered his expertise.**

   In fact, he barely felt anything at all, at least until Duke quickly rolled the two over so that Louis was on top, and the smaller man was brought back to reality.

            “Help!” Duke yelled. “Harry, help me!”

            Louis didn’t even have time to be confused before he was thrown up against the wall; something that seemed to be happening quite a lot lately. He almost smiled when he saw that it was Harry who had him pinned this time, but he was too chilled by the hatred in Harry’s eyes, unlike any he’d seen before.

            “Harry!” Duke gasped, jumping out of bed. “Baby, thank God you’re here! Louis came over and I know I shouldn’t have invited him in, but he said he had information on where you were and then he just…he forced himself onto me! I was trying to get away, but I was so scared!”

            “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Louis said, and then gasped as Harry put his arm up against his throat. He could still breathe, but barely.

            “What the hell is wrong with you?” Harry asked Louis through gritted teeth.

            “Harry, Duke’s lying!” Louis said. That hadn’t quite been how he’d wanting his coming clean to go, but it was what it was, he supposed. “ _He_ sent _me_ a text from your phone saying that he wanted to talk and when I got here, he decided he was going to have his way with me!”

            “Baby, he’s crazy!” Duke said, his fake tears going strong.

            Harry glared at Louis. His eyes almost looked like someone else’s.

            “Please, Harry; you’ve got to believe me,” Louis begged.

            “I wish that girl didn’t save you the other night,” Harry said, ice in his voice. “Or, more yet, I wish _I_ didn’t save you all that time ago so that you wouldn’t have had a chance to hurt Duke anymore.”

            Louis wasn’t proud of it, but a whine escaped his throat.

            “I never hurt Duke except out of self-defense!” he said. “I know I should have told you a long time ago, but, please, _please_ listen to me now!”

            Louis was tugging on Harry’s arm, trying to relieve some pressure from his throat, but Harry didn’t budge.

            “Clearly, I’m not a strong guy,” Louis tried next. “Do you think Duke couldn’t have easily protected himself against me?”

            “Don’t you dare try to victim blame,” Harry warned.

            “Harry, let him go,” Duke said, suddenly sounding bored. Just like that, his tears had stopped. “Louis is a disturbed individual who needs help, but you don’t need to stoop to his level and hurt him too.”

            Harry hesitated, giving Louis one last cold, murderous look before stepping away from him.

            “Get out,” he said as Louis struggled to balance himself.

            “Harry, please; you’ve got to listen to what I’m saying!” Louis pleaded one more time, but Harry made it clear he wasn’t going to be taking orders from Louis by punching him straight in the face. Louis fell against the wall and then stood there, shocked, until Duke grabbed him by the arm and led him downstairs and out the door.

            “I’m sorry,” he mouthed before shutting the door right in Louis’s face.

            It was only after standing and staring at the perfectly white paint for nearly a minute that Louis realized his nose was bleeding and that he was missing a shirt. His pants were still up, though, and he didn’t feel sore anywhere from the neck down, so that was a good sign.

            Still, he couldn’t help but to break down in tears the moment he saw Niall’s shocked face.

            “What happened?!” the Irishman asked, moving away from the stove where he was cooking dinner to more closely study Louis.

            As Louis recounted the recent events, Niall’s face grew redder and redder.

            “You need to tell everyone the truth,” he said. “This has got to stop. You’re away from him. He shouldn’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

            “I tried to tell Harry,” Louis reminded the other. His tears were still falling. “He wouldn’t listen.”

            “Fuck Harry!” Niall said. “He’s an arse!”

            “No, he’s not,” Louis disagreed. “He’s brainwashed.”

            “Call it what you want, but you need to forget about that man and find someone better. I know you want to help him, but he’s not your problem. He’s just causing you problems.”

            “There’s no one better,” Louis insisted.

            Niall sighed, still looking angry, but mostly just sad.

            “You, my dear, are the one who is brainwashed,” he said.

            Niall helped Louis clean himself up and then finished making dinner. Louis didn’t have much of an appetite, but he managed to eat a little bit anyway, and then he went upstairs to lay down.

            Life couldn’t go on like this, Louis knew. He was losing more and more self-respect by the day, letting his heart get broken over and over. This had to end, but he wasn’t quite sure how. Or, rather, he didn’t want to think about it, but after pushing the thought out of his head numerous times, Louis finally had to come to terms with the fact that going home may be the only solution.

            Niall cried when Louis told him his plan, but he understood and even agreed that it would be best. Zayn was much the same way.

            Within twenty-four hours, Louis had booked his flight home for that weekend, crying when he finalized his ticket order.

            On Wednesday morning, Zayn called Louis early to ask if he could open the shop. He’d woken up nauseous in the middle of the night and now had a fever and sore throat. Louis assured him to take the day off and get to the doctor; he could hold down the shop.

            “I can’t believe I have to miss one of the last few days of working with you,” Zayn said, his sadness evident in his voice even around his hoarseness.

            “I know, but you need to get better,” Louis said. “I’m just glad I’m still here to help.”

            Opening up the shop wasn’t the only way Louis decided to ‘help’ that day.

            Only a few minutes after Louis unlocked the door and flipped on the ‘open’ sign, Liam came walking into the tattoo parlor, smiling until he saw that it wasn’t Zayn behind the counter. Louis decided not to take it personally.

            “Good morning, Liam!” he greeted cheerfully.

            “‘Morning,” Liam replied, a bit of his smile returning, though he was still noticeably disappointed. Louis explained,

            “Sorry to tell you, but Zayn’s out sick today.”

            “Oh, no!” Liam said, his face contorting with worry. “Is he okay?”

            “I’m pretty sure it’s strep throat, so he’s not feeling too great now, but he’ll be fine,” Louis assured him.

            “Well, I hope he feels better soon,” Liam said, his fingers brushing the pocket where Louis could see the outline of his phone; no doubt he wanted to text Zayn straight away.

            “Actually, Liam; not that I’m happy Zayn is sick, but this gives me a great opportunity,” Louis said with a sheepish smile on his face. Liam gave him a curious, yet hesitant look.

            “How so?” he asked.

            “Don’t worry. As cute as you are, I’m not hitting on you,” Louis said, and then, before Liam could reply, “I was actually wanting to know what you think about Zayn.”

            “He’s cool,” Liam said. As he started to blush, he added, “and nice and funny and super talented and gorgeous and…holy hell, I really like him.”

            Liam sighed, and then his blush deepened.

            “Sorry,” he said.

            “For what?” Louis asked rhetorically. “This is great news!”

            “Why?” Liam asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

            “Because Zayn really likes you too.”

            “No, I don’t think so…,” Liam disagreed.

            “I know so,” Louis told him. “Mate, who do you think has to be the one to listen to him talk about you all the time? Not that I mind.”

            “Really?” Liam asked, his eyes lighting up with hope.

            “I promise,” Louis said. “I wouldn’t toy with either of your feelings like that.”

            Liam smiled so wide that his eyes nearly disappeared. Even so, he shifted on the balls of his feet nervously.

            “Zayn’s a really good guy,” Louis assured him. “He wouldn’t hurt a soul. I know getting back in the dating game is scary, especially after the kind of relationship you got out of not too long ago, but I promise that Zayn wants to treat you right. He’s just scared as well and he needs someone to be good to him too.”

            “So…Isabelle isn’t a girlfriend or anything then?” Liam verified.

            “No,” Louis said. “Isabelle…She’s a complicated part of Zayn’s life, but she’s never been romantically involved with Zayn, nor has he wanted to be with her. Trust me, Liam; you don’t have to worry about Isabelle.”

            Liam nodded, still smiling and nervous.

            “Ask Zayn on a date,” Louis urged. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

            “Okay,” Liam said unsurely, and then, more confident, “Okay. I will.”

            “Good,” Louis said, his own smile threatening to split his face.

            When Louis saw Zayn calling him that night, he smiled again.

            “Hey! How are you feeling?” he asked after accepting the call.

            “I feel great!” Zayn said, though he still sounded awful. “I have a date with Liam!”

            “Fucking finally!” Louis replied.

            “Tell me about it!”

            Zayn sighed happily and then explained how it all came to be.

            “After Liam went to the shop and you told him I was sick, he called to ask if I needed anything. I almost didn’t answer because I do not sound sexy right now, and he felt bad after he realized it probably hurt me to talk, but I was okay with my throat feeling like it was going to bleed if it was him I was talking to, so I kept him on the phone. Anyway, I told him I didn’t need anything and then he said, ‘not even someone to watch films with?’ As tempting as that was, I told him no because I don’t want to get him sick, which is true, but I also look like hell right now, so…And then he said that, once I feel better, he’d like to take me on a date! We’ve planned it for Friday because I should feel alright and not be contagious by then.”

            “That’s great, Z,” Louis said, hoping his smile was evident in his voice.

            “I know!” Zayn said, and sighed again.

            “I’m happy for you,” Louis told him.

            “Thanks,” Zayn said. “I hope when you go back to England, you find happiness for yourself too.”

            “I will,” Louis said, even though he wasn’t confident about that answer at all.

            The day before he left, Lottie invited her brother and Niall to dinner. She told him she was going to miss him and even though Louis thought she was lying, he was telling the truth when he said that he would miss her too.

            It was tempting to stop by the salon before he left to say goodbye to Lottie one more time (and not at all to see Harry, who had miraculously gotten his job back, for the last time), but Louis resisted. Niall drove him to the airport and waited with him until his flight was called.

            As soon as Louis’s gate was announced for boarding, tears welled up in his friend’s eyes.

            “This will be good for you,” Niall said, probably trying to convince himself more than Louis.

            “Anything’s got to be better than this,” Louis said. “Thank you for being one of the two good things to come out of California, Ni.”

            Zayn, of course, was the second ‘thing.’

            “You’re going to let me visit you, right?” Niall asked, a single tear escaping and running down his cheek. Louis wiped it away, swallowing against his own emotion.

            “Of course,” he said to the other’s question. “You haven’t seen the last of me. Plus, we have Lottie’s wedding.”

            “That’s not until November!”

            “True. I’ll fly you out to see me this summer.”

            Louis pulled Niall into a short, but tight, hug. When they let go of each other, he picked up his carry-on bag.

            “Call me at every layover!” Niall instructed.

            “I will,” Louis promised.

            “Good. I’ll see you soon?”

            “You won’t even have time to miss me,” Louis said.

            “That’s a lie,” Niall said, “because I already do.”

            Louis smiled and, with a wave, turned and boarded his flight.

            For the whole seventeen-and-a-half our flight (including his layovers), Louis felt numb. Surely, the time should have dragged on, but it didn’t. Before he knew it, he was landed in his hometown and exiting the plane to see his mom right inside the gate, waiting for him.

            As soon as he saw her, reality hit and he gasped as a wave of relief washed over him. He ran, throwing himself into her arms like he was a kid again.

            “My baby,” she cooed, kissing his forehead.

            “Mum,” Louis said, some emotion finally making its way out of his eyes and voice. “I never should have left.”

            For the first time, Louis truly wished hadn’t gone with Duke, even if it meant that he’d never met Harry.

            “You’re home now, baby,” Louis’s mom said. “It’s a new beginning.”

            “I’m sorry for everything, mum,” Louis said, pulling away and wiping his eyes. He couldn’t even find it in him to be ashamed that he was crying. His mother, who was still under the same impression as everyone else; that he was an ill-tempered husband-beater, was looking at him with all the love in the world.

            “You’re home now, Louis,” the woman said again. “You’re safe.”

            The two went to get the rest of Louis’s bags and then, finally, they left the airport.

As soon as he stepped outside into the cool England air, a weight that Louis hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying was lifted from him. He could breathe.

             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know; just as Harry starts to redeem himself he goes and does this, but I PROMISE Louis and Harry will be together soon(and Harry will more than pay for what he did) ;) Thank you for being patient. It took a lot for me to be patient with these two in real life as well, haha.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know; a super late update again, but I'm trying!!!

***Harry***

            Harry expected Duke to either feel a lot or nothing at all. After what happened with Louis, he would either be an emotional mess or shut down. Not that Harry was a psychologist or a psychic, but he’d experienced enough trauma to know the typical after-effects of experiencing such an event.

            The one way Harry hadn’t expected Duke to react was by being angry with him.

            Duke had ushered Louis out of the house while Harry stood there, right where he’d punched Louis, and concentrated on calming down. Part of him wanted to feel guilty for hurting the man, though he didn’t know why. A bloody nose was nothing compared to the mental scars he’d given Duke.

            After the front door closed, Harry heard his boyfriend’s heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. A moment later, he all but marched into the room, his lips forming a tight line and his eyes glinting angrily.

            “Babe,” Harry said gently, even though he was still shaking with rage and other indescribable emotions. “Are you okay?”

            He took a step forward, but when Duke held out a hand, Harry stopped in his place.

            “Why the fuck did you do that?” Duke asked.

            “What?” Harry asked. He thought he knew the answer to his own question, but it made no sense. Shouldn’t his reasons have been obvious?

            “You made his nose bleed, Harry! What if it’s broken?!”

            “He was trying to rape you!” Harry said, sounding more defensive than he’d meant to. “I was trying to protect you!”

            “He wasn’t anywhere near me when you punched him,” Duke said, his voice shaking.

            “He was telling lies about you!”

            “That doesn’t mean you need to hit him!”

            “I think you’re confused,” Harry said. “I don’t think it’s me you should be angry at.”

            “He’s sick, Harry!” Duke exclaimed, slapping the palm of one of his hands with the back of the other, as if he was having to explain something to some very dense person. Harry watched the movement nervously. Suddenly, his boyfriend appeared to be in slow motion, though his words were still coming out fast and angry. “He’s got mental problems, and that doesn’t excuse the way he acts, but you don’t need to sink to his level and do the same thing!”

            “The same thing?!” Harry asked, and even though he was a bit afraid, he was still mostly angry. “How can you compare what I did to what he was doing?!”

            “You hurt him,” Duke repeated, ignoring Harry’s question.

            “I’m so sorry!” Harry spat, knowing he didn’t sound particularly apologetic at all. “I forgot that you still care about Louis more than anybody else, including yourself!”

            “I don’t like seeing you become a violent person, Harry,” Duke said, his voice calmer, but the anger still evident in his eyes.

            “Well, I don’t like seeing you almost raped!” Harry returned. Duke said nothing; his nostrils flaring from how hard he was breathing.

            “I shouldn’t have come back,” Harry said, and gained the courage to try to pass Duke, but jumped when the other man grabbed his arm.

            “Don’t go,” Duke said, his voice, as well as the look in his eyes, instantly turning sad. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you were just trying to protect me.”

            Harry sighed. He hadn’t had a headache before, but now there was a pounding in his temple.

            “Where have you been, baby?” Duke continued, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pulling him closer. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

            “Vegas,” Harry answered, and Duke seemed to start to roll his eyes, but then merely smiled.

            “I guess I should have known,” he said. “Why did you come back?”

            “Because I wanted to see if we could work things out, but it’s not really seeming like we can.”

            “Of course we can!” Duke disagreed. “We most definitely can. I missed you so much, baby.”

            Duke pulled Harry tight against him, hugging him so hard that for a moment, it was hard for the other man to breathe.

            “I’m sorry I made you leave,” Duke spoke again. “I didn’t mean any of it. I was just upset. It won’t happen again.”

            When Harry still didn’t say a word, Duke tried,

            “I love you.”

            “I love you too,” Harry replied, and it was true, so he didn’t know why the words were so hard to spit out.

            It had been two days since Harry had eaten a decent amount, and he should have been used to that, but the hunger pains were suddenly too much to deal with, so Duke made him a sandwich and sat there watching him eat. Harry was a bit uncomfortable, but too starved to care.

            Harry hadn’t had a proper shower for a while either, so after eating, he went upstairs to clean himself.

            When he entered the room, he saw a black cloth lying on the floor by the bed, and when he picked it up, he realized that it was Louis’s shirt; torn clear in half.

            His chest turned cold and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

            _“Harry, Duke’s lying! He sent me a text from your phone…”_

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to remember the words. He’d seen Louis on top of Duke. Duke had to have been telling the truth…right?

            The shirt that Harry was holding in his hands seemed to tell a different story.

Fear, anger, and humiliation formed together to give Harry an adrenaline rush and he stormed back downstairs immediately, holding Louis’s destroyed shirt in his hands.

            Duke heard him approaching and was looking to the entrance of the living room when Harry arrived.

            “What is this?!” he asked, shaking the piece of clothing that was in his hand, before his boyfriend had time to speak.

            Duke stared at the shirt for a good while before replying pitifully.

            “I don’t know.”

            “I apologize,” Harry said. “What I should have said was, ‘Why the fuck is Louis’s shirt ripped completely in half?’”

            “He ripped it off before he…you know,” Duke said.

            _“Clearly, I’m not a strong guy…”_

            “ _Louis_ ripped his shirt off?” Harry asked, making it clear that he didn’t believe a word Duke was saying. “I know I’m not the brightest, but how dumb do you think I am?”

            “He’s stronger than he looks!” Duke insisted, but then said, “I don’t really remember much of what happened, though. I think I kind of shut down. Maybe I ripped it off of him when I was trying to get away.”

            Duke’s face twisted in the way it always did when he was about to cry.

            “I really don’t remember! I was so scared, baby…”

            “Okay,” Harry replied simply, and then turned on his heel to march right back upstairs, throwing Louis’s shirt away in the process.

            _Duke can’t be lying_ , he told himself, for if he was, then that meant Harry had just potentially broken the nose of the true victim and then wished him dead. For his own mental health, Harry had to believe that Duke was telling the truth.

            He mostly succeeded in convincing himself, though he couldn’t explain the sick, guilty feeling that was knotting up his gut.

            After his shower, Harry laid down, clad only in his boxers, and closed his eyes. He fell into a half-sleep very quickly, and though he was aware of the sound of footsteps in the room, he didn’t come back around until he felt a weight on top of him. He opened his eyes just in time to see Duke leaning forward to kiss his neck, and he groaned in protest when the other man slid his hand across his waistline.

            “No,” Harry whined, pushing against the other man gently.

            “But we need to have make-up sex,” Duke said, as if it were a written rule punishable by law.

            “We can tomorrow,” Harry said, his words jumbled into a yawn.

            “Why not now?” Duke asked. Harry replied with another question.

            “You really want to have sex now, after what just happened to you?”

            “Hey, don’t judge how I cope,” Duke said. He kissed Harry’s chest.

            “Please, baby,” he asked. “He was the last person that touched me, and I feel so…gross. I need to feel you.”

            “Fine,” Harry sighed, rolling onto his stomach. “But you’re topping.”

 

            Harry entered the salon nervously the next day. No one was up front to greet him because of course they weren’t. That had been his job. He had to admit, it felt kind of good that they hadn’t replaced him yet.

            After taking a moment to mentally prepare himself, Harry sat in his previous chair by the computer. Only a few seconds later, Lottie came out to see who had entered the salon. When she saw Harry, her eyebrows pulled together. She didn’t look angry; merely confused.

            “Harry, what are you doing?” she asked.

            “Oh, just hoping that I’m not fired,” he replied.

            “Fired?” she asked.

            “Yeah, for not showing up for a few days.”

            “But…you quit.”

            Harry felt his own eyebrows pull together. Lottie was looking at him worriedly.

            “Do you not remembering sending us a text the other day that said you quit?”

            If Harry’s face showed what he felt on the inside, then he had to have looked awful, and apparently it did, because Lottie sighed.

            “Oh, Harry,” she sighed. “You break my heart.”

            Harry had no reply.

            “Get to work,” Lottie said next. “I’ll talk to the boss for you.”

            “Thanks, Lottie,” Harry said, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. He cleared his throat.

            “Don’t mention it,” the woman said.

            Harry liked to say that he always did his best work, no matter what, and even though he knew that wasn’t entirely accurate, he hadn’t been aware of just how much so until that day. When he was terrified of losing his job, he amazed even himself of what he could get done.

            “Oh, hey,” Harry said, smiling at Lottie when, an undetermined amount of time later, she came up front and grabbed her purse. “Have to go get supplies?”

            “No…,” she said, looking at Harry with the same worried look she’d had on her face earlier. “It’s time go home.”

            “Oh,” Harry said, looking at the digital clock on the computer. He could have sworn the woman’s four o’ clock appointment had just arrived. In fact, he hadn’t even seen her leave, but suddenly it was quarter after six and the salon was quiet.

            “Are you okay, Harry?” Lottie asked as he started shutting the computer down.

            “Yeah, why?” Harry asked, realizing immediately that he shouldn’t have. He should have answered the question and left it at that.

            “You’re not acting like yourself,” Lottie said. “You’ve barely said two words to any of us all day.”

            “I’m just tired,” Harry said, trying to reassure her with a smile. “I’m fine, though. By the way, it’s been way too long since you and I have had a double date with Ricky and Duke. We should go on one soon!”

            Lottie gave Harry a look, clearly not happy over the change of subject, and he thought she was trying to decide whether to let it slide or not. She did, replying to Harry with a simple,

            “Yeah, we should.”

            “How about Friday?” Harry asked.

            “We can’t Friday,” Lottie said. “We’re having Louis over for a kind of goodbye dinner.”

            “A goodbye dinner?” Harry asked. Something felt off in his chest again.

            “Yeah,” Lottie affirmed. “He’s going back to England.”

            “Oh.”

            Harry suddenly felt like he was falling, and he amazed himself by gathering the ability to rise to his feet.

            “Well, sometime soon, then. For the double date, I mean.”

            “Definitely,” Lottie agreed. Harry hated that she still looked so concerned.

            Lottie wasn’t the only person to tell Harry that he was being oddly quiet.

            “What’s wrong with you?” Duke asked during dinner in which Harry was barely eating. Though his words were harsh, his tone was soft, and he brushed a finger along Harry’s jawline as he spoke.

            “Nothing. I’m just not all that hungry,” Harry said honestly.

            “It’s something more than that,” Duke insisted. Harry sighed and then, even though he felt as if he shouldn’t, he asked,

            “Did you know Louis was going back to England?”

            “What?” Duke replied, his tone flat. His hand fell from Harry’s face.

            “That’s what Lottie told me today,” Harry explained.

            “When?!”

            “Lottie said they’re having a goodbye dinner for him on Friday, so I’m guessing soon.”

            Duke’s nostrils flared, as they always did when he was angry. Harry felt himself tensing up.

            “Fuck,” Duke said quietly to himself and then, turning his glare to Harry,

            “This is your fault!”

            “How so?!”

            “You must have set something off when you hit him! Or, I don’t know; maybe it was when you told him you wished he were dead. You told a _suicidal_ person that you wish he was dead, Harry!”

            “Okay, yes, I get it; I shouldn’t have done that, but I don’t think I mean enough to him to make him flee the country!”

            “Yes, you do!” Duke said, laughing hysterically as he did so. “He’s fucking in love with you!”

            It was Harry’s turn to ask ‘what,’ laughing as well.

            “Yeah!” Duke said. “He’s liked you since the night we both met you and then when you became closer…I’m not stupid. I know he was developing feelings for you, and they seemed a lot like love to me!”

            “I think you’re mistaken,” Harry said, having to fight not to continue laughing.

            “I’m not! That’s why I asked you out in the first place! I wanted to get to you before he did.”

            “Wow…um…Thanks, I guess?”

            A tiny bit of Harry wished that Louis had gotten to him first before he remembered that he did, kind of, but that he was a bad person who didn’t deserve any part of his or Duke’s heart.

            “God,” Duke sighed again, squeezing the space between his eyebrows. “You are joking, right?”

            “About what?”

            “Louis leaving.”

            “No, but why does it matter? You’re not with him anymore. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re with me.”

            “Just shut up!” Duke yelled, slamming the palm of his hand onto the table’s surface. Harry jumped.

            “Shut the fuck up, Harry,” Duke said as he stood. “I can’t listen to you right now.”

            Duke stormed upstairs and Harry sat there, listening to the hum of the refrigerator. He focused intently on that noise, going into an almost trance-like state before pain-emotional pain-hit him like a semi and took the breath right from his lungs.

            But he was totally only crying because of Duke, and not because of the thought that he may never seen Louis again.

***Louis***

            Being punched in the face by Harry was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to Louis. If Harry had never hit him, he would have stayed hung up on the dream that one day, he would fall just as madly in love with Louis as Louis was with him. Then, Louis wouldn’t have gone back to England, signed up for cooking school again or started working out more regularly, becoming both mentally and physically stronger.

            Most importantly, he never would have met Eli.

            Eli was probably the second best thing to ever happen to Louis. The pair met two weeks after Louis had arrived back home when Louis entered the clothing store at the mall where he worked to apply for a job. He didn’t get a call back for the position, but he did receive a call from Eli, who had stolen his number from his resume, about a week later.

            “At least filling out that application wasn’t a complete waste of time,” Louis had said after being told who was on the phone. “They didn’t even call me back.”

            “Eh, this is a shitty place to work anyway. It’s their loss,” Eli told him.

            By the end of the two-and-a-half hour phone call, they’d scheduled their first date.

            Louis ended up scoring a job at a shoe store in the mall, which Eli told him was even better than them working together. If they worked together, he said, they would never have seen each other or taken breaks at the same time anyway. This way, they could visit each other when they stopped for lunch, or pretend to be very annoying and clingy customers until their managers found out who they really were.

            After only two months, Eli wanted Louis to move in with him. Louis was nervous while rejecting the offer, but Eli understood his reluctance to move slowly, as Louis had told him everything-the _true_ everything-about his previous relationship and marriage.

            Besides, Louis stayed the night with him at least three times a week anyway.

            Except for Niall, Zayn, and Liam, who he was basically forced to tell the truth to when Liam saved him from the man, Eli was the first person Louis had told about Duke. He hadn’t even told his mom yet, even though he’d intended to, because she wasn’t treating him any differently so far and he didn’t want to see the look of hurt, disappointment, or anger when she found out the secrets he had been hiding.

            Moving back to England four months ago hadn’t stopped Louis from being friends with his mates from California. He talked to Niall and Zayn at least once a week on the phone and kept up with their lives through social media.

Liam and Zayn had started dating officially on only their second date, and they were so consistently cute and sweet that Louis teased he had to block their posts because they made him nauseous. Niall dated off and on, but he hadn’t gotten serious with anyone yet and didn’t seem to mind.

            On an almost bi-weekly basis, Niall and Zayn would ask Louis about visiting, although none of them had the money for it. Finally, they were in luck when Louis’s mom decided to take a trip that August and visit her daughter. Of course, she took Louis-and Eli-with her.

            As soon as Louis and the other two exited through the gate after their extremely long flight, loud yells of celebration could be heard throughout the near vicinity, and before Louis even had time to place where exactly they were coming from, he was being pulled into a hug by Niall. Zayn was on his other side.

            “Hey, lads,” Louis laughed, accepting the group hug. “I missed you too.”

            When they let go of him, Louis saw Liam standing right behind Zayn, smiling, and Louis hugged him as well.

            “Sorry,” he said afterward. “Zayn talks about you and I see your posts so much that I feel like I know you a lot better than I actually do.”

            “That’s okay,” Liam assured him, his smile still in place. “You’re the reason I finally grew the balls to ask out Zayn, so you can have all the hugs you want.”

            “You two are so cute,” Louis told the man, and then turned to face his boyfriend. “Almost as cute as Eli and me, I’d say.”

            He put his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. His heart fluttered when Eli beamed.

            “I’m Eli,” he said, extending a hand for the others to shake. Once those greetings were done, Louis introduced his mom.

            “I’m glad to see all of you,” he said, “but how are we all going to fit in Niall’s car?”

            “Zayn only came to keep me company, and, obviously, his conjoined twin had to come as well,” Niall explained. Zayn grimaced.

            “Ew, Niall. Please don’t liken Liam to my sibling. That’s…very wrong.”

            Everyone else laughed. Liam squeezed Zayn’s hand.

            “We’re all going to go out soon, though, yeah?” Louis asked, looking mainly to Zayn.

            “Of course,” Zayn said. “It’s really good to see you, Lou. You look better; healthier, I mean.”

            “I know what you mean,” Louis assured his friend. “I feel better, too.”

            Louis wanted to ask Zayn, face-to-face, how he was doing too, but in the middle of an airport, with Zayn’s boyfriend, who was still unaware of his exact mental condition, standing right there, was not the place. He could only hope that his ability to hide the secret from his boyfriend and still maintain a happy relationship meant that he was doing as well as he claimed he was over the phone.

            While Louis’s mom was staying with Lottie and Ricky, Louis and Eli were staying with Niall, so after dropping off the woman, Niall began the short drive home. Louis was excited. He’d missed the place. It hadn’t felt exactly like home, but it had been the first and only place he felt safe and loved in California.

            “Nothing in your room has been touched, so if it’s a mess, it’s your own fault,” Niall told Louis as he pulled into his garage.

            “Aw, Niall!” Louis cooed. “You couldn’t find it in you to move my things?!”

            “I know, I know,” Niall said. “Sometimes I have to go in there and lie in your bed because I miss you so much. In fact, I’m glad you’re staying here for a bit so that you can get your smell all over those sheets again. It’s faded over time.”

            Louis laughed, glancing to Eli to gauge his reaction, but the man was smiling. Eli didn’t take much in life seriously, which could be good or bad, but was mostly good, in Louis’s opinion.

            When Eli noticed him looking, he leaned over to give him a kiss. Niall smiled at them in the rearview mirror. Louis’s heart soared.

            Louis and Eli went out to dinner with Lottie, Ricky and Jay the next evening, and Lottie’s hug upon first seeing Louis seemed genuine. He wondered if she truly missed him, like she’d said, or if she was putting on a show for their mom, but it didn’t matter. It felt good anyway.

            It was clear early on in the night that both his sister and her fiancé loved his boyfriend. They kept him talking almost the entire time, though they weren’t interrogating him. He simply had a way of pulling people into conversations that they couldn’t escape from; not that they wanted to. Louis knew this firsthand.

            As everyone was walking to their respective vehicles after dinner, Lottie pulled Louis off to the side alone.

            “Eli seems like a great guy,” she said.

            “He is,” Louis assured her.

            “Treat him right, Lou, okay?”

            Louis was almost offended that she felt the need to say that to him, but knew he had no right to.

            “I will,” he told his sister, who then hugged him again.

            The day after that, Ricky decided to throw a party at the beach. Louis was excited, but nervous at the same time, sure that there would be people at the party that he didn’t particularly want to see.

            Not wanting to ruin Eli’s obvious excitement, but thinking he should be aware, Louis decided to warn him.

            “Just so you know, Duke is probably going to be at this party,” Louis told his boyfriend before they left. His smile, which had been present since morning, faltered a bit.

            “Your ex-husband Duke?”

            “Yes.”

            “Can I feed him to a shark?”

            Louis laughed, thinking, not for the first time even that day, how amazing his boyfriend was.

            “No, unfortunately, that probably wouldn’t be the best idea.”

            “You’re right,” Eli said. “I’ll slip something into his drink to make him gassy so that when he goes swimming in the ocean, he cramps up and drowns.”

            “You’re demented,” Louis said, kissing his boyfriend’s exposed shoulder as he did his hair in the mirror.

            “I like to call it ‘protective of my loved ones,’” Eli said. “Seriously, though, we don’t have to go. If you’re only going because I said I wanted to, then forget it. I don’t want you to have to see that sorry excuse of a man ever again.”

            “I’m really okay,” Louis assured him as the other turned. Louis put his hands on his waist and Eli kissed him.

            “But will you be okay when you see him?”

            “Yeah, actually. This time, I will be.”

            “You’re so strong,” Eli sighed lovingly, putting his head against Louis’s bare chest, right next to his heart beat.

            “I’m working on it,” Louis said.

            “And you’re doing better than you think,” Eli told him.

            Luckily for both of them, they ran into Jay before anyone else at the party. She gave both men hugs, and then whispered in Louis’s ear that Duke was at the food table if he wanted to avoid him. They did precisely that until about an hour later, when Eli grew hungry. Figuring there was no way that his ex-husband was _still_ eating, they made their way to the food. Louis groaned when he saw Duke still sitting there with Harry beside of him.

            “Which one is he?” Eli asked, not even questioning the reason for Louis’s disdain.

            “The muscle-y brunette with the big eyes,” Louis told him.

            “We can wait to eat,” Eli offered, stopping in his tracks and tugging on Louis’s hand to try and get him to turn around. Louis shook his head.

            “I’m not running from him. I’m not afraid of him,” Louis said, and it was mostly true. Seeing the man who had nearly destroyed his life still gave him a bad feeling deep inside, but Eli was his safe space, so he knew he was going to be okay.

            “I’ll be as civil as I can, but I’m not promising great things,” Eli told his boyfriend, who smiled.

            “They already don’t like me anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

            “Why don’t they like _you_?!”

            Eli looked shocked, as if not liking Louis was borderline impossible or something. Louis gave him a kiss.

            “Long story,” he said. “I’ll tell you later.”

            Hand-in-hand, they approached the food table. Everyone, Duke and Harry included, looked toward them once they realized someone was approaching. Duke looked Louis up and down, a slight smirk appearing on his face before he saw the man he was holding hands with and frowned. Harry stared at them, but there was no light in his eyes. He looked dead inside, and Louis wondered if the other man even truly saw them.

            His mending heart cracked a little and, though it was hard, he peeled his eyes away from the man he used to love.

            “Hey, Louis,” Duke greeted. “Who’s your mate?”

            “This is my boyfriend, Eli,” Louis explained, squeezing Eli’s hand before handing him a paper plate. He hesitated before getting one for himself but decided that he wouldn’t give Duke the satisfaction of thinking that his presence still affected Louis to the point where he couldn’t eat, even if he did take his appetite away.

            “Boyfriend, huh?” the other asked.

            “Yes,” Louis answered. “Boyfriend. Eli, this is my ex, Duke, and his current boyfriend, Harry.”

            “He knows about me?” Duke asked. Louis had a hard time deciding if his tone was more smug or frightened. He thought maybe he put on the confidence to hide the fact that he was scared.

            “Yes,” Louis told him again. “He knows everything.”

            “It’s nice to meet you, Harry,” Eli said pointedly to the other man, who put on a smile so robotic that Louis nearly got chills despite that they were outside in eighty degree weather.

            “It’s lovely to meet you too, Eli,” Harry said. His tone matched his smile and Louis saw Eli spare him a quick, worried glance.

            “Any who, have fun you two,” Duke said, standing and clapping Harry on the back so that he would follow suit. He did, after noticeably jumping and then smiling widely again, as if that would hide the fact that he’d nearly had a heart attack.

            “See you,” Harry said before allowing himself to be led away by his boyfriend.

            Gemma and her boyfriend, who were also seated at the table, rose to follow the two, saying a quick hello to Louis as they passed.

            “What is wrong with him?” Eli whispered, clearly talking about Harry, once the group was well out of earshot.

            “He’s dating Duke,” Louis replied simply.

            “True,” Eli agreed. “Sad.”

            “Yeah,” Louis said. “His problem, though.”

            Looking away from the curious gaze his boyfriend was giving him, Louis began piling food onto this plate. Eli knew everything about Duke, but nothing about Harry and if Louis had his way, it was going to stay like that.

            As he ate, he tried to rid himself of the emptiness he saw inside of Harry; the same emptiness he used to see reflected in the mirror.

            After eating, Louis and Eli found Lottie and Ricky, who were just starting up a volleyball game. Louis hadn’t played volleyball much, and Eli claimed he was terrible, but the two decided to join in. Duke soon joined, which didn’t surprise Louis; though he did smile as Eli rolled his eyes. He also wouldn’t completely deny the chance that Eli was purposely trying to knock Duke in the head with the ball, though he was unsuccessful.

            He’d been right. He really was terrible at volleyball, but Louis made sure he knew he loved him anyway with cheers of ‘go, babe,’ slaps on the butt and kisses on the lips. He hadn’t _only_ been doing it for show, but he kind of liked how angry it seemed to be making Duke, nonetheless.

            When the players decided to take a break, Louis took that as an opportunity to go to the bathroom. He assured Eli that he didn’t have to follow unless he saw Duke going that way and, with a kiss, went to take care of business.

            The party was a bit away from the toilets, and Louis was starting to think that he should have brought his phone, just in case, when footsteps behind him caused his heart rate to pick up speed. The person was choosing not to speed past Louis, even when he slowed down, and when he walked faster, so did they.

            Finally, after gathering his courage, Louis spun on his heel, causing Harry to stop dead in his tracks as well.

            Even upon seeing that it was only Harry doing the stalking, Louis jumped.

            “Jesus!” he breathed, putting a hand to his chest. “You scared me!”

            “Sorry,” Harry said, and Louis thought he meant it, but his expressionless eyes and monotone voice made it hard for him to be sure.

            “What are you doing?” Louis asked.

            “Going to the toilet,” Harry said. “Am I going the right way?”

            “Yes…,” Louis answered, thinking that Harry had been to that beach more than enough times to know his way to the bathroom.

            “Okay,” he said. “Good.”

            He started walking again, going past Louis, but when he heard the other begin to walk again as well, Harry slowed his pace so that they could fall in step with each other.

            “How is England?” he asked, a bit of inquisitiveness in his voice.

            “It’s great,” Louis said.

            “Good,” Harry told him.

            “How’s Cali?”

            “Great,” Harry said. “I’m really happy.”

            Louis couldn’t help it; he laughed out loud. When Harry raised his eyebrows, he said,

            “I’m sorry, but the way you sounded like a robot when you said that makes me think that you’re not very happy at all, if I’m being honest with you.”

            “Really?” Harry asked. The surprise he showed was more emotion that Louis had seen out of him all day.

            “Yes, really,” Louis answered. Not that he ever wasn’t worried about Harry, but Louis was afraid that his former love was turning into someone else entirely, if he hadn’t already.

            He still knew how to make Louis’s heart race though, and it wasn’t from fear any longer.

            “Are you alright, Harry?”

            “Yes, I’m alright,” Harry said. After a hesitation, he asked,

            “Can I talk to you?”

            “I think that’s what we’re doing.”

            “Right.”

            Harry fell silent. Louis waited until the toilets were in sight before speaking again.

            “Don’t you want to talk to me about something, Harry?”

            Harry stopped in his tracks and Louis did too. The former looked around and then sighed.

            “I’m sorry I punched you and said that I wished you were dead,” he said.

            “It’s alright. I’ve moved on.”

            Harry nodded, chewing the inside of his lip nervously as he looked around again. Finally, he asked,

            “What were you going to tell me that day? About Duke? About you?”

            “I think you know by now, Harry.”

            Harry cast his eyes downward, absently touching a bruise on his arm. The bruise was small; it could have been from anything, but Louis thought he knew how badly that small mark had hurt.

            “You can leave him, Harry,” Louis said. “I know it doesn’t feel like you can, but it’s possible. He’ll tell you all the right things to get you to stay, but none of them are true. I know you have trouble being alone, Harry, but being single doesn’t mean you’re alone. I think you’re lonelier right now in your relationship than you would be if you got rid of him.”

            Harry didn’t reply. He was breathing rapidly; either about to cry or have a panic attack. Maybe both.

            “Please, Harry,” Louis tried again. “Leave him before you nearly ruin your life like I did.”

            Just then, Harry’s phone started ringing from inside the pocket of his shorts. Jumping, he pulled it out, dropped it and picked it back up, his face turning to an expression of fear.

            “Forget I said anything,” Harry told Louis. “Duke’s fine. I’m fine!”

            “Harry!” Louis called after the other man as he turned and ran off. Of course, he didn’t stop for him.

            “Damn it,” Louis muttered under his breath. He was so close. _Harry_ was so close to seeing the light.

            Suddenly, Louis felt guilty. It was irrational, because he knew Harry never would have believed Louis until he was ready and, unfortunately, he probably wouldn’t have been ready until Duke broke him down like he’d now successfully done. Still, Louis almost regretted moving back to England and leaving Harry there to fight the battle on his own. True love was never supposed to give up and he had truly loved Harry. Maybe he still did, he realized as he entered the toilets, wanting to cry, and that only made it worse because what about Eli?

***

            _“Do you think you can ever truly love someone after loving another?” Harry had asked Louis randomly one day as he sat down, penning a song, while Louis messed about on the keyboard nearby._

_“Yeah,” Louis had told him. “I think you only get one love that’s, like, Earth-stopping or whatever, but your heart doesn’t have a capacity limit on love.”_

_“But there’s only one **true** , true love?”_

_“Yeah,” Louis said again. “At least I like to think so. Makes it more romantic or what not.”_

_“Romantic or depressing?” Harry asked._

_“Both! Like me!” Louis answered, pointing to himself with a wide smile on his face. Harry laughed._

_“You’re not depressing,” he said. “You may be **depressed** , but you’ve got a light that everyone else can see. I just wish you could too.”_

_“Sometimes I do, when I’m with the right person,” Louis said. Harry simple smiled, turning his attention back to his song._

_Louis closed his eyes momentarily before looking back to Harry and trying to play him a piece of music that could almost match up to his beauty._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wanted Duke out of the story by now, but I also don't want it to feel rushed. Things are starting to turn, though, and he WILL be gone soon and I'll make sure to add lots of fluff to make up for everyone's patience in both my updating time and the lack of Larry that's been happening XD I just witnessed my brother's wedding this Saturday, so, trust me, there will be a very happy ending :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't give excuses as to why this is super late, but I promise to never go that long without posting this story again. This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I decided to break it up a bit so that I can just get SOMETHING up. Thank you for your patience!

***Louis***

            Guilt was still eating away at Louis as he walked back to Eli. All the way, he kept telling himself that if he saw Harry again, his heart wouldn’t do that stupid thing where it pounded so hard that it nearly jumped out of his chest. He loved Eli; not Harry.

            _But are you in love with Eli like you had been Harry?_

Louis didn’t know where the question came from, but he shook his head against the silent words.

            Without making a conscious effort to do so, Louis found himself trying his hardest not to make eye contact with Harry as he approached the group. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Harry was looking towards him, and his heart thumped, but that was only because of the way Eli smiled when he saw his boyfriend returning.

            “How was your trip to the loo?” Eli asked, meeting Louis halfway and then giving him a kiss on the lips.

            “I had a ball,” Louis answered, and Eli smiled again.

            “Good,” he said. “We’re about to go back to the game. Are you still into it, or…?”

            “Nah, not really,” Louis told him. “I think I need to sit out for a bit, but you go ahead and have fun. I’ll be cheering you on from the sides.”

            “Are you okay?” Eli asked. That quickly, his smile had fallen, and he was looking at Louis with all the worry in the world.

            Louis’s chest hurt.

            “I’m fine,” he told his boyfriend. “Just a bit hot.”

            “What did you _do_ in that bathroom?!”

            “Oh, you know; I was just thinking about how good you look all shirtless and sweaty, and one thing led to another…”

            Louis winked and Eli laughed, though he still didn’t look completely relaxed.

            “I’ll go get us a couple of drinks and we’ll watch the rest of the game together,” he offered.

            “You can’t quit too,” Louis said. “Our team is definitely fucked if two people drop out.”

            “I wasn’t scoring any points anyway,” Eli reminded him. “They can find a replacement for at least one of us, I’m sure.”

            From nearby, someone said,

            “I’ll step in.”

            Louis’s heart pounded painfully again before he’d even placed that the offer had come from Harry. He hadn’t even realized he’d been close enough to hear, and suddenly, Louis felt shaky.

            “ _You’re_ going to play volleyball?” Duke sneered, looking at Harry, amused.

            “Why not?” Harry asked. Duke shrugged.

            “Guess it will be an easy win for my team then,” he said.

             “Go play with them, E,” Louis urged, nodding towards the others on his team, who were slowly taking their places behind the net.

                “I’m not good,” Eli said. “They don’t need me.”

            “Come on,” Harry spoke again. “I’ll give you pointers on how to nail Duke in the head.”

            Eli looked to Louis, clearly confused and concerned about the situation. Smiling, Louis simply nodded again.

            “Go get ‘em, babe,” he said, and blew a kiss before taking a seat in the sand a few feet back.

            It was weird, watching Harry and Eli interact so closely with one another. Harry was surprisingly decent at volleyball, and with his help, Eli did manage to hit Duke in the head once. Harry nailed him in the chest a separate time. Louis wanted to smile at the anger on Duke’s face, but he was too afraid that Harry would have to pay for all of this later.

            When Eli finally scored his first point, Harry’s scream of excitement drowned out Louis’s, and Eli was beaming as the two gave each other a high five. Momentarily, Louis wondered if maybe they should date each other. Harry definitely deserved better than Duke, and they both deserved better than Louis.

            A sigh from beside of Louis startled him, and he turned his head to see Gemma settling herself in the sand beside of him with a cocktail in her hand.

            “Hey, Louis,” she said.

            “Hey,” he greeted back.

            “Mind if I sit here?”

            “No, of course not.”

            “Good, because I really wasn’t looking forward to getting back up.”

            Louis smiled at her and watched her take a drink. When she noticed him looking, she smiled as well.

            “How are you?” she asked, seeming to genuinely mean the question.

            “I’m doing pretty well,” he answered. “How about yourself?”

            “I’m fine.”

            She took another drink, turning her gaze back to the game. Louis did the same. After a moment, the woman said,

            “It’s good to see Harry happy, isn’t it?”

            “Yeah,” Louis agreed, though he wasn’t sure he was happy playing the game. Rather, he was distracted.

            “He’s come such a long way.”

            Louis’s eyebrows furrowed together.

            “Yeah?” he asked, not knowing what else to say. Gemma couldn’t really mean that, could she? She wasn’t blind and she definitely wasn’t dumb, but the Harry that Louis had seen that day had gone a long way in the wrong direction. He didn’t think that was what the women meant, however.

            “Yeah,” Gemma said. “It’s sad, but I never thought I would see my brother happy.”

            “You really think he’s happy?” Louis asked incredulously. His shock was lost on the other.

            “I really do,” she said.

            Gemma got up to converse with a friend some time later and once the game was over, Harry made a quick beeline for the drinks and Duke trailed after him, smiling stoically and nodding to the other team as he passed. With a big grin on his face, Eli made his way back to Louis, who greeted him with a kiss.

            “See, you’re not so bad after all,” Louis told him. Eli half snorted.

            “That was pure luck, that was.”

            “Nope,” Louis said. “Play a couple more games and you’ll be a pro.”

            “Hey, stop blatantly lying to me okay? How am I ever supposed to believe you when you tell me my butt looks cute if you lie so smoothly?”

            “Because I love your butt. I can’t fake that,” Louis said, giving his boyfriend a nice smack in the rear. He jumped and giggled, poking Louis’s side.

            When they both straightened, they noticed Harry, standing a few feet away and smiling at the both of them. His eyes looked less dead than before, but there was still something robotic about him that Louis didn’t like.

            _How does Gemma think this is what happiness is?_

            “A drink for the winner,” Harry said, his monotone voice added a bit of emphasis on the last word as he handed a drink over to Eli. Giving one to Louis, he added, “and the winner’s boyfriend.”

            “Did we really win?” Eli asked.

            “I don’t know,” Harry said. “But we pissed Duke off so that’s a win in my book.”

            Eli laughed. The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched upward. Louis hated it all.

            “It was really nice to meet you,” Harry said to Eli. Then, looking at Louis, he said,

            “I’m glad you’re happy.”

            “Harry-” Louis began, but Harry turned on his heel and walked briskly away.

            “He’s odd,” Eli commented, sipping on his drink, “but I like him.”

            Louis watched Harry until he saw him meet up with Duke; the latter man grabbing onto his waist possessively, and then he looked to Eli and nodded.

            “Yeah,” Louis said. “Harry is…definitely something.”

            “How about we finish our drinks and get a cab home?” Eli asked. “Maybe we can shower this sand off before Niall gets back.”

            “You’ve never had a better idea, my love.”

            Everything with Eli was as perfect as Louis thought they ever could be. They were compatible in every way and Louis loved him enough to _almost_ forget Harry when he wasn’t around.

            As much as it hurt Louis to think about, he decided that his sister’s wedding had to be the next and last time he saw the man he was trying so hard to get over. It always took time to completely heal from someone you loved, Louis reminded himself, and it had only been a few months since he’d given up on Harry for good. One day, the man would be a distant memory and Louis would be the man that Eli deserved.

            Of course, as soon as he’d come to that conclusion, lying awake at one in the morning with his boyfriend sleeping peacefully beside of him, Harry decided to text him.

            _Are you awake_? The message read. After viewing it, Louis rolled his eyes and locked his phone, letting out a deep sigh as he placed the device on the nightstand beside him. He had every intention not to answer, but when he closed his eyes to try and finally get some sleep, all he could see was Harry with Duke, in similar situations Louis had been in before.

            _Harry has other people who can help him if he needs it_ , Louis told himself in a last-ditch effort to ignore the man’s text, but if that was true, then why was Louis the one he was reaching out to?

            Louis sighed so loudly that Eli snorted and rolled over, but after a moment of Louis holding his breath, the other settled down again.

            _Yes_ , Louis replied to Harry, angry at himself for doing it.

            _Come to the beach?_ Harry asked. _I need to talk to you._

For a moment, Louis was angry. How dare Harry think he could ask Louis to leave his cozy bed at _one in the morning_ to go talk to the man who had nearly broken his nose and wished him dead.

            He only stayed mad for a moment, though, because it was Harry and he wanted to talk to him face-to-face and, presumably, alone!

            Or, at least, Louis hoped it was truly Harry this time.

            _Send me a pic so I know it’s really you,_ Louis replied. Harry kept him on ‘read’ for a couple moments before saying,

            _Who else would I be…?_

_Duke,_ Louis answered simply. _It’s happened before._

After that, Louis half expected Harry to accuse him of being a liar (again) or simply not reply at all. He told himself that would be the best scenario, but he couldn’t keep from smiling when Harry sent him a selfie with the dark pier in the background. It could have been an old photo, he supposed, but Louis knew Harry hated pictures of himself and so probably didn’t have too many selfies on his phone in the first place. He decided to believe him.

            _Be there soon,_ he said.

            After leaving a note for Eli, telling him exactly where he was going and what he was doing (because Louis wasn’t that awful of a boyfriend), Louis called a cab and waited outside for it to arrive. The whole time, he told himself he was doing this for Harry’s sake, but he felt too pathetic to believe it.

            _I’m here. Where are you?_ Louis asked before the cab had even completely stopped. Harry texted him back right away, telling him which pier to find him at, so after paying the driver, Louis went on his way.

            Despite the fact that he was expecting him, Harry jumped when Louis took a seat beside of him, their feet dangling off the edge.

            “Just me,” Louis said; unnecessarily since Harry had already looked at him. “What’s up?”

            Harry’s gaze lingered on Louis’s face for a few moments before he looked out towards the water.

            “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said. Finally, he sounded human.

            “You told me that already,” Louis pointed out.

            “I know,” Harry said. “I really am, though.”

            “I told you, Harry; I’m over it.”

            Harry fell silent again. Louis held in a sigh.

            “You didn’t really have me come all the way out here in the wee hours of the morning so that you could say sorry again, did you?”

            Harry hesitated before replying. When he did, his voice was low.

            “I guess not,” he said.

            “What’s going on, Harry?” Louis asked. He didn’t mean to sound as harsh as he did, but he was equal parts scared and frustrated. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen that night, but he’d wanted more than repeated apologies and sullen silences.

            “I need you to tell me exactly what happened that night you were arrested,” Harry finally said. He still refused to look Louis in the eye.

            “Harry,” the other man groaned. “Is it necessary? I thought we both agreed that you know the truth by now?”

            “Yeah, I probably do,” Harry admitted, “but I need to hear it.”

            A ball formed in Louis’s throat. He’d told Eli about Duke, yes, but he’d never told him about that night. He’d never actually spoken about it to anyone.

            “A lot of it is a blur,” he finally began truthfully, “I’ve blocked it out, which I guess you can take as you will. All I remember is him trying to get me to have sex with him-really forcing me into it, like-and the only way I could think to get him to stop was to hit him with the bedside lamp. I ran, but he followed and was obviously angry, so once he caught up to me, I was terrified. I just started hitting and kicking…and the next thing I know, I’m being held on the ground until police come and put me in handcuffs.”

            “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

            “I was in shock at the time and now…”

            Louis trailed off; shrugged.

            “I’ve gotten used to people thinking I’m an awful person, I guess. I don’t know, I don’t really have an answer, and I think that’s part of the problem. Everyone is going to want to know exactly what happened and when and why, and what kept me from telling the truth and I just don’t know.”

            Harry nodded, sparing Louis one quick, sympathetic look.

            “You don’t have to answer this, but did you ever hurt him first?”

            “No,” Louis said. His heart was racing and he suddenly found it hard to sit still. Coming clean felt wonderful and awful at the same time, and Louis wasn’t sure how that was possible, but he wanted to smile as he wanted to cry, so there was that. Still, he couldn’t stop.

            “I left my home for him,” Louis continued. “I dropped out of cooking school, I lied to my family, and I became everything-or pretended to be everything-he told me he wanted me to be and it still wasn’t enough.”

            The dark of the morning made it hard for Louis to clearly see Harry’s face, but he thought the other man was on the verge of tears himself.

            “Do you think anything will ever be enough for him?” he asked Louis.

            “Unfortunately, no,” Louis said. “You shouldn’t have to change yourself to make someone happy.”

            After another moment, Louis amended,

            “You shouldn’t have to change yourself to keep the man who supposedly loves you from hitting you.”

            Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Despite everything, Louis couldn’t help but to smile at the strands that stayed sticking up instead of falling back into place.

            “I’m leaving,” Harry said.

            “Good,” Louis replied, but then, “Wait, leaving Duke or _leaving_ leaving?”

            “ _Leaving_ leaving.”

            “Where are you going this time?”

            “I don’t know yet,” Harry admitted, swinging his feet as he perhaps thought of the possibilities.

            “Will you send me a postcard?”

            Harry laughed. Louis felt something strange in his chest.

            “Maybe,” the other man said.

            “I’ll take that.”

            “Hey, Lou?”

            “Yeah?”

            “You and Eli are really cute together.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Do you love him?”

            “Yeah, I do.”

            It was true. Even if Eli didn’t have all of Louis’s heart yet, he had part of it.

            “Do you think he’s your fairytale ending?”

            “Harry,” Louis said, trying his hardest not to laugh. Luckily, he succeeded. “I know you believe in fairytales, but I don’t; at least not for most people. This is more like a horror movie with a happy ending.”

            “Is that not the same thing?”

            Louis opened his mouth to say that of course it wasn’t the same thing, but when he stopped and thought about it, he supposed he could see the parallels.

            “Alright, touché,” he said.

            “Are you happy?” Harry asked next.

            “Yeah,” Louis replied, honestly and without hesitation. Confused, he may have been, but happy, he definitely was. “I actually am.”

            “Then for what it’s worth, I’m glad I saved your life.”

            “That’s worth a lot,” Louis told him. It was getting harder and harder not to cry. “Thank you.”

            Harry nodded. After a final few moments of silence, he said,

            “I guess I should let you get back to him now.”

            “Is that really all you wanted to talk about?” Louis asked. He supposed he shouldn’t complain over getting to see Harry, but he wasn’t sure why all of this couldn’t have been sent through a text.

            “No,” Harry said, “but I’ve changed my mind.”

            “Why?”

            “What I was going to ask you is…inappropriate.”

            Louis raised an eyebrow.

            “Alright, now you’ve gotta tell me.”

            “No, I don’t,” Harry said with a sheepish grin. Louis couldn’t help but to grin back, glad to finally see some life on that beautiful face.

            “You’re leaving!” Louis reminded the other. “What does it matter if I know?”

            “I don’t have the right,” Harry said.

            “No offense, Styles, but when do you ever care about acting appropriately?”

            By some miracle, Harry laughed. Louis felt light-headed.

            “You’re going to get mad at me.”

            “Good,” Louis said. “It’s about damn time I get angry at you for something.”

            Harry shook his head, but said,

            “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

            “Okay, I won’t.”

            “Duke said that the only reason he wanted to be with me is because you liked me.”

            “That was quite a shitty thing for him to say.”

            “But was it true?”

            “I don’t know, Harry. I long ago stopped pretending that I understood Duke’s reasoning behind anything at all.”

            “That’s not what I meant!” Harry exclaimed with what almost sounded like another laugh. “Did you like me?”

            “You were alright, I guess.”

            With a disgruntled noise, Harry looked away. Even though Louis couldn’t see him clearly, he somehow knew that he’d rolled his eyes.

            “Yes,” Louis admitted after a bit.

            “Yes?”

            “Yes, I liked you.”

            Louis almost laughed. ‘Like’ was such a simple word that didn’t even begin to describe his feelings for Harry.

            Seemingly, this would be a perfect time for Louis to tell Harry that he loved him. The other man was being open and raw with him, and he was truly listening to Louis, his story and his feelings. Besides, Louis only had to see him a maximum of one more time in his whole life, so there really was no better time.

              Still, something stopped him. For one, he didn’t want to be the guy who admitted he was in love with someone while with someone else. He hadn’t given up hope that his heart would one day get over Harry so that he could give himself completely to Eli.

            Harry and Louis were vulnerable at the moment, which kept Louis from telling the man everything as well. If Louis told Harry he loved him-words he was probably desperately wanting to hear from _someone_ -the sentiment might be returned only temporarily until Harry reached a better mental state. Louis knew he wouldn’t be able to handle finally having Harry and then losing him, so he kept his mouth shut. The time for them had passed, he told himself, and ignored the ache it gave him in his chest.

            So instead of telling Harry he loved him, Louis simply asked,

            “Did you mean it when you said we were never friends?”

            “Of course I didn’t mean it,” Harry answered, as if Louis were dumb to ever think otherwise. “I let you run away with me, didn’t I?”

            “You did,” Louis allowed. Harry said,

            “Sometimes I wish we never came back.”

            When Louis didn’t say anything, simply because he couldn’t think of a good reply, Harry shrugged off-handedly and added,

            “At least everything’s worked out for you, though. Thanks for coming out and talking to me.”

            With that, Harry stood and brushed off his pants. He offered a hand to help Louis from the ground, which he wordlessly accepted.

            “See you at Lottie’s wedding, I guess?” Louis said. He hadn’t meant for it to be a question, but Harry simply smiled. That lack of an answer left Louis feeling uneasy.

            “I’ll call you a cab.”

            Harry waited with Louis until his ride arrived. Not a single word was spoken in that time, and when Louis’s taxi pulled up, the two simply waved.

            Louis didn’t know why he continued to be so emotional during the ride home, but he chalked it up to being tired.

            Eli was still sound asleep when Louis got back, so Louis balled up the note he’d left for him and tossed it in the trash can. After stripping down to his underwear, he crawled into bed. The shifting of the mattress woke Eli for just a moment, but, still out of it, he only offered Louis a sleepy smile before closing his eyes again. Louis kissed his forehead, wishing this felt more like home than sitting on the pier with Harry had.

            It took two days before Louis heard the news that no one could find Harry. He’d left a note, at least, asking people to not waste time or money looking for him because he was fine and ‘just needed time.’ Nobody seemed too concerned anymore anyhow, which broke Louis’s heart, but a good part of him thought maybe Harry would be better off if he wasn’t found. California had offered him nothing but physical and emotional pain. Perhaps if he stuck to his word and made a new life around new people, he would finally heal.

            As promised, Eli and Louis went out with Zayn and Liam one night before they left. They went to dinner, then ventured up to the rooftop of a furniture gallery, where there were secret ping-pong and pool tables open at night, as well as music. People were allowed to bring their own food and drinks, and, of course, the four of them loaded plenty of beer into a cooler beforehand.

            “Liam, how did you even find out about this place?!” Louis asked incredulously. He was currently in a ping-pong match against the guy, with Eli and Zayn talking to each other beside of them; sometimes remembering to cheer for their respective man.

            “I loved adventure,” Liam explained.

            “You don’t love adventure anymore?” Louis asked.

            “I do,” Liam said. “Certain people and things made me forget that for a while, but someone else is bringing that passion out of me again.”

             Louis smiled, taking a second to glance at his boyfriend and one of his best friends.

            “I’m glad you and Zayn found each other,” he told Liam honestly. “His heart needed someone like you.”

            Liam smiled, suddenly so caught up in emotion that he missed the ball. Feeling generous, Louis declared a re-do of that particular round.

            Even though he was having fun and should have been well distracted by the alcohol, noise and good company, Louis kept finding his mind wandering to thoughts of Harry. Where was he now? Had he reached his destination yet? How was he making money? Was he eating? Was he happy? Was he safer than he had been with Duke?

            “You okay?” Eli whispered in Louis’s ear after he had gone quiet for a noticeable length of time. Louis smiled and nodded before he kissed his boyfriend.

            “Just tired. Think I must have went overboard on the drinks.”

            In all honesty, Louis couldn’t even remember how much he’d had to drink. He felt as if it could have been two or three, but also that it could have been eight or more.

            Eli ‘tsked’ teasingly.

            “You’re becoming a lightweight in your old age, Tomlinson,” he said. “Wasn’t it only a couple months ago you threw back drinks at the bar one night and then woke me up the next morning to go on a jog with you?”

            “Ah, yes,” Louis said, closing his eyes as if he had to recall a moment much longer ago than what it was. “My month of being a health nut. I can’t believe you dated that guy.”

            “I knew it wouldn’t last,” Eli said. Louis thought he winked as well, and lightly hit him on the shoulder.

            “Rude.”

            “Come on,” Eli said after taking his turn to kiss the other. “Let’s get you home before you barf everywhere.”

            “I’m not _that_ far gone,” Louis insisted, but when he stood, he lost his balance, so maybe he was, in fact, more ‘far gone’ than he thought.

            Luckily for him, Eli managed to get him balanced.

            “I think I’m going to get this guy home,” he said to Zayn and Liam.

            “Probably a good idea,” Zayn agreed. “Do you want us to come as back-up?”

            “Nah. I can handle him. Thanks, though,” Eli assured him.

            “Alright, but make sure you two stop by my place or the shop before you go back to England, okay?”

            “Of course!” Louis spoke up, patting Zayn’s cheek a few times, lightly. Well, he thought he was being gentle, but the way Zayn blinked at each pat may have hinted otherwise.

            After giving Zayn and then Liam a hug, Louis allowed Eli to lead him to their Uber driver. Louis hadn’t even been aware that he’d called for one yet. Time sure was moving fast.

            _Where was Harry now?_

In the car, Louis made sure to tell Eli he loved him a good few times, but not too many so that he wouldn’t seem like he felt guilty over something. He wasn’t sure why he felt guilty again. Yes, Harry was on his mind, but the guy had run away. Louis was worried about him. They’d been friends. His reaction was normal.

             Though nothing really changed for their last couple of days in California, Louis hid his wandering thoughts well, and he was excited when it was time to go back home. Harry had barely ever crossed his mind when they were oceans apart, and he hoped it would be that way again.

            “Hey, Lou; this came in the post for you,” Niall said the morning that Louis and Eli were set to leave. “I forgot to give it to you yesterday.”

            Louis’s heart skipped a beat when Niall threw the mentioned piece of mail on the counter in front of his friend. Momentarily, he stopped chewing his cereal. He _knew_ that handwriting.

            Trying to act nonchalant, Louis opened the envelope. Inside, was a post card with a picture of the Lincoln Memorial on the front. Flipping the post card over, there were only two simple words;

            _Love,_

_Harry_

            Louis smiled, tucked the postcard safely back into the envelope and imagined Harry getting the life he deserved, safe in Washington D.C.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so...Life has been, well, life, but I'm working reeeeeally hard to try to get a better posting schedule going again. Thank you all for your patience and I hope this super long chapter helps make up for my suckage at posting a bit!

                Louis blamed California for the strange roller coaster his emotions had been on because as soon as he stepped foot on British ground, all was right in the world again. Harry was still on his mind, but he didn’t long for him anymore.

            Well, mostly. He still wondered what it would have been like if they were together and sometimes the thoughts were almost enough to drive him crazy, but most of the time he could see that things worked out alright anyway, and ‘alright’ was probably all he could expect from life.

            He hoped that Harry was okay too, or even better than okay.

He hoped Harry showed up at Lottie’s wedding and gave him all the details, but a big part of Louis never expected to see the other man again. A postcard would probably be the last Louis heard from him and, slowly, he was accepting that.

            Or at least he thought so.

            One night, just a little over a month after he’d returned from California, Louis was getting ready to go to bed early when his phone rang, displaying an unknown, long distance number. Due to his frequent travels, Louis got those a lot, and he was about ready to throw the mobile back on his bed where it had been sitting, when the tiny letters underneath the foreign number caught his eye; Washington D.C.

            It couldn’t be Harry. He had left his phone behind when he ran off. No one memorized phone numbers anymore and even if he had, for some reason, remembered Louis’s, there would be no reason for him to call. It was probably a coincidence.

            Louis answered anyway.

            “Hello?” he asked, his voice shaking and his face burning.

            “Hey, Louis.”

            Upon hearing the deep, smooth voice that was so familiar, Louis had to take a seat on his bed.

            “Oh my god.”

            Harry laughed, causing Louis’s heart to flutter.

            “I know, I know, it’s a shock; I’m alive.”

            “Harry?”

            “Yeah. It’s me.”

            “Oh my god.”

            Again, Harry laughed.

            “It’s good to hear your voice,” he said.

            “It’s good to hear from you,” Louis returned, aware that he was smiling like a buffoon and glad that Harry couldn’t see him.

            But how he wished could see Harry…

            “How is Washington?” Louis asked.

            “It’s alright,” Harry replied. “It’s away from them.”

            _Them?_ As far as Louis knew, Harry didn’t have problems with anyone except Duke. Of course, it wasn’t like Harry bore his entire heart and soul to him anymore.

            “You’re okay then?” Louis asked, deciding not to push for more details on who exactly ‘they’ were.

            “Yeah, I’m okay,” Harry said. Over the phone and millions of miles away, Louis couldn’t tell if he was being honest or not. At least he didn’t sound like a robot.

            “How are you doing?” Harry asked. “Did you go back to England?”

            “Yeah. I left the day after I got your postcard in Niall’s mail, actually.”

            “That was fortunate timing.”

            “It was. Thank you for sending that, by the way.”

            “Thank you for not telling anyone where I was.”

            “Thank you for not making me regret that decision.”

            Harry laughed yet again. Like the times before, Louis’s heart fluttered.

            “Alright, tell me everything about Washington,” Louis demanded, and Harry did. At least, he claimed to tell Louis everything. Either way, Louis was grateful for what he was given, and the extra forty-five minutes of conversation after.

All in all, the pair talked for a glorious seventy-seven minutes and when they finally disconnected, Louis felt empty. Even pulling the covers tight against his body and replaying Harry’s voice in his head didn’t help that much.

            Still, he knew he would get over it. He always did.

            Exactly one week later, Eli broke up with Louis. His ex-boyfriend had moved back to the country and the two had decided that they belonged together. Louis wanted to be angry. After all, he’d spent five months with the man. Surely, that was plenty of time for him to get over his ex and fall in love with Louis instead.

            It didn’t take Louis long to realize he was being a hypocrite. His head could convince him that he wasn’t in love with Harry most of the time, but his body reacted differently.

            That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though. Maybe part, or most, of him was still in love with Harry, but he did love Eli. That man had been his hope that, one day, he could move on and have a happy, normal relationship with someone that let him take care of him and vice versa.

            The hurt piled on the guilt and topped off with a nice dose of humiliation was too much for Louis to handle.

            He spent the first night after the break-up crying; to the point where he only got a little over two hours of sleep. At one point, he even called the number that Harry had rang him from, but the line had been disconnected.

            The second night after the break-up, he went out.

            Louis had yet to tell anyone about his break-up and said to his mother that he was going out with Eli and may or may not be home that night. Giving him a knowing look, the woman told him to have fun and she would see him in the morning. Louis felt sick, but the shots and drinks helped.

            Four drinks and seven shots later, the guy that kept buying him said drinks and shots began to look quite a bit like Harry. At least, he had dimples and green eyes, and that was close enough.

            “Just tell me when you want to get out of here, love,” the man said into Louis’s ear. It sounded as if he were speaking through a tunnel. “We can go to my place.”

            “I’m ready,” Louis said, putting his arms around the man’s neck and waiting for him to carry him out. Belatedly, he realized that was something that only he and Eli did, but the virtual stranger simply laughed and obediently lifted Louis from his chair.

            He gave Louis a kiss before lowering him into his car and Louis closed his eyes, picturing Harry’s face. The image almost followed him when he opened his eyes again, and he smiled.

            “You’re cute,” not-Harry said.

            “Cute?” Louis asked.

            “Cute, handsome, hot, sexy as hell…you know; all of the above.”

            “That’s more like it,” Louis said, patting the other’s cheek. With a grin, the man shut the door and hurried around the car to hop in the driver’s seat.

            Louis was sober enough to know the man was speeding recklessly home, but too drunk and sad to protest.

            The sex wasn’t particularly enjoyable. This other guy-Louis really should remember his name, he thought as he had flipped over to let him top-liked it a lot rougher than Louis did, but it was alright when he squeezed his eyes shut and pictured Harry again.

            By the sounds his lover for the night made, he was having a good time, at least.

            After everything was done, Louis laid in the bed for just a couple of minutes while the other started to fall asleep. He’d needed a bit of time to collect himself and gain the ability to ignore the soreness of his body. Besides, it took everything in him not to pass out.

            Once he sat up and began getting out of bed, his new friend’s eyes flew open and he reached out quickly, grabbing Louis’s arm and making him jump.

            “Really?” he asked, looking a bit angry. “You’re actually leaving?”

            “I figured that was all you wanted,” Louis said, hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he thought he did. “I thought you wanted me to leave.”

            “Of course not, baby,” the other said, pulling Louis gently back down on top of him and running his nails up and down his bare back. “Who could ever want you to leave?”

            Louis almost fell in love right then and there, though he knew it was only because he was lonely and his broken mind had connected this man possibly too much to Harry.

            After getting some sleep and waking up to sore muscles and a bruised body, Louis knew he wasn’t in love or even close to it and he sneaked out of the house, deleting not-Harry’s number as he walked around the block to call a cab.

            Eventually, Louis knew he had to go back to the bar he’d been at the previous night to retrieve his car, but his head was pounding and he wasn’t completely convinced that he wouldn’t throw up at any given second, so instead, he simply got a ride home.

            “Louis?” he heard his mom call from the kitchen as soon as he entered the house. Cursing under his breath, Louis locked the door and made his way dizzily to her. Surprise struck when he saw both his mom and his sister sitting at the kitchen table, their hands folded as if they were about to give Louis the scolding of a lifetime. Suddenly, he really did want to get sick.

            “Oh, hey,” he said, forcing a smile. “I didn’t know you were visiting, Lots.”

            “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said flatly.

            “You succeeded in that,” Louis told her, gripping the corner of the counter and blinking against the wave of dizziness and nausea that struck. He knew his misery had to be obvious, but the women took no pity.

             “Where were you last night?” Jay asked.

            “Would it be pointless to tell you again that I was with Eli?”

            “Considering Eli came to talk to you last night and had no idea where you were, I would say yes,” Jay replied.

            “Well, shit,” Louis sighed. He wanted to sit but more so wanted to keep his distance from the other two.

            “Why didn’t you tell anyone that you and Eli broke up?” Jay continued.

            “I didn’t want to talk about it,” Louis said. His mom opened her mouth to reply and she, at least, looked mildly sympathetic, but Lottie interrupted and showed no mercy.

            “What did you do?!” she demanded.

            “Nothing!” Louis said, his anger sparking right away.  Lottie went on.

            “Eli was wonderful, and given your history, you may not find another man like him. You were lucky he gave you a chance!”

            Louis rolled his eyes, stepping away from the counter only to retrieve the half empty bottle of wine from the fridge. He didn’t bother getting a glass; just twisted off the top, threw it in the sink and began chugging. He needed something to take the ebb off both his hangover and his anger.

            “Isn’t it a little early for that?” Jay asked.

            “Yes, but it’s also a little early to be verbally attacked when my boyfriend just left me to get back with his ex,” Louis reasoned. It was obvious then that his mother felt bad, but his sister wasn’t letting up.

            “Is that the truth?” she asked doubtfully.

            “Yes!”

            “But he loved you.”

            “Apparently not as much as he did that douchebag!”

            “I better not find out that you hurt him,” Lottie warned. Louis saw red, and the next thing he knew, he was slamming his empty wine bottle against the sink, breaking it. Belatedly, he realized his behavior wasn’t helping his case at all, but he’d lost all self-control.

            The knives sitting out by the stove were suddenly very appealing…

            “What the fuck?!” Lottie said, still notably angry but mostly scared. Louis almost felt bad.

            “God damn it, I never hurt anyone!” he exclaimed.

            He felt a little better when he noticed that, somehow, his mother looked calm; maybe even understanding. He really loved that woman. Why hadn’t she been the one to birth him? Then Louis wouldn’t be _Louis_ and everything would no doubt be better.

            Infuriating himself further, Louis began crying.

            “Okay, I hurt Duke once,” Louis amended, gasping between tears. “But that was only because I was tired of being beaten and raped every day and night!”

            Both Jay and Lottie’s eyes widened, and something flashed quickly across their faces, but it was gone before Louis could place it.

            “Maybe you should sit down and explain everything,” Jay suggested.

            “You won’t believe me,” Louis said.

            “Try me,” she replied, pulling out the chair beside of her. Hesitantly, Louis took the seat. He didn’t speak at first. He felt himself disassociating; mentally trying to free himself from the situation, but when Lottie cleared her throat, he was brought back to harsh reality.

            Louis wasn’t aware that he’d stopped crying but suddenly, he started again.

            “He’s always done it,” Louis finally said. “I had such a crush on him in school and, finally, he noticed me at a graduation party.”

          Though Louis was coming clean, he still decided to hide the fact that the ‘graduation party’ was really a rave.

      “I thought it was going to be the last time I ever saw him and, suddenly, he was beside of me the whole night; talking to me and telling me he couldn’t believe that he’d never noticed how cute I was before. It was all the cheesy shit that I’d longed for.”

            Louis stopped to take a breath. He’d almost caught himself smiling remembering that night because, even though it had turned into a nightmare, for a few hours, he’d had everything his teenage self had longed for. Through everything, he never forgot that feeling.

            “Did he do something to you at the party?” Jay prodded gently. Louis bit his lip. His throat burned. _How did she know?_

            “At the time, it didn’t seem like a big deal,” Louis said. “He kept pushing me to do stuff, but even though I was saying no, I kind of liked the attention. Plus, he kept giving me drinks so I started caring less and less. I’d, uh…never done anything before; not even kissed someone because…Well…”

            He paused, not wanting to go quite that far. His mother knew of the different forms of abuse he’d suffered. He wasn’t sure if his sister knew the full extent but being touched had been one of Louis’s phobias for a long time, so he was sure she could put the pieces together.

            “Anyway,” he continued, “we started making out and that was fine, but soon, all I remembered was waking up in a bed with him.”

            Louis physically shook himself. He willed himself not to look at either woman, knowing he wouldn’t like what he saw on their faces.

            “It didn’t affect me much at the time, at least not that I realized. I felt betrayed at first, but who knows? Maybe I agreed to what we were doing. Either way, I associated it with love and I felt like the luckiest guy in the world when he started calling me his boyfriend afterward.”

            Louis paused again. There was a lot more he could say, of course. He could go into the whole twisted tale of himself and Duke, but he didn’t have the energy. Instead, he bluntly said,

            “He started hitting me a week later.”

            “Why?” Lottie asked, and Louis heard their mom ‘tsk.’

            “The ‘why’ doesn’t matter, Lottie. It’s never okay to hit someone.”

            “I mean, if he was hit first…”

            “I didn’t hit him first!” Louis yelled, finally looking up. Lottie gave him a disgusted grimace while his mom gently reached for his hand, which he yanked out of her grasp. “I laughed at something he said that apparently wasn’t a joke and he smacked me. Is that a good reason to you?”

            Finally, Louis had left his sister speechless. He went on to say,

            “That’s basically it. Every time he got mad at me, or mad at anything, I got beaten up, and whenever he was in the mood and I wasn’t, I was drugged. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

            “We wanted to hear the truth,” Jay said. Her voice cracked.

            “Well, you got it,” Louis said. He’d hoped finally coming out with the truth would be a great healing process, but it didn’t feel as good as he’d hoped. Of course, he wasn’t planning on being forced into telling the truth, nor was he planning to be both drunk and hungover when it happened.

            Wordlessly, Jay rose from her chair to kneel by Louis and pull him into a hug. He wanted to push her away, but he knew she was hurting from his words too. The embrace was not only to comfort Louis, but herself as well, and Louis supposed he owed her that.

            Lottie, on the other hand, appeared to be angry still.

            “If that’s the truth, why did you wait so long to tell anyone?” she asked.

            “I don’t know,” Louis answered truthfully. The woman sighed, leaning back and crossing her arms.

            “Well, I don’t know what to believe,” she said.

            “Lottie!” Jay exclaimed in shock, though Louis wasn’t surprised by his sister’s reaction. Hurt, yes, but he’d expected it.

            “Does it look like he’s lying?!” Jay asked her daughter, rubbing Louis’s shoulder. Louis hated how divided everything felt.

             “He’s a good actor,” Lottie claimed. Louis made a noise of disgust, shrugging his mother’s touch away.

            “ _This_ is why I didn’t tell anyone sooner,” he said, amending his earlier answer, and he stormed upstairs, ignoring Jay calling his name behind him.

            For a good while, Louis heard Lottie and Jay fighting. They even took their argument outside when it got too heated, thinking Louis wouldn’t be able to hear, but he still did, even when he covered his ears.

            The sounds of their yelling had just faded and Louis was almost asleep when a knock on the door startled him.

            “Wha?!” he asked, rubbing his eyes and wiping drool from his mouth.

            “It’s me,” he heard his mom say. “Can you let me in?”

            “It’s open,” Louis said, glad he’d been too miserable to worry about locking the door. He didn’t think he had it in himself to move much more.

            Jay opened the door and closed it behind her after she entered. Louis could tell she had been crying and he wanted to say something that would bring comfort to her, but he didn’t think such a thing existed at the moment, especially from him.

            “Hey, baby,” Jay said, and pulled Louis into her arms as she sat on the edge of his bed. A few more tears rolled down Louis’s cheek; all he had the energy for.

            “I’m sorry,” Louis said after a couple of silent minutes.

            “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Jay said. “I’m sorry we believed everything but the truth.”

            “Well, I was a problem child,” Louis said, unable to count how many times he’d sneaked out of the house late at night to smoke or drink. He hadn’t been super worried about being caught either; in fact, he often felt like he let himself get busted accidentally-on-purpose. He’d always been looking for attention and searching for unconditional love.

            It was no wonder he’d ended up in the situation he was in.

            “Yeah, but you never hurt anyone,” the woman said. “You were always so sweet.”

            After giving him a kiss on top of the head, she added,

            “You still are.”

            Despite everything, Louis couldn’t help but to smile just a little.

            “I love you,” Jay continued. “Someday, a man will treat you right.”

            “No, I think I’m done with relationships,” Louis told her, and she chuckled.

            “Everyone says that after a break-up, darling.”

            “I mean it,” Louis told her, and he did, at the time. “Everything hurts. I know it sounds dramatic, but everything _really_ hurts.”

            “I know it does, baby, and I’m sorry,” Jay said with a sigh. “When I adopted you, I swore to everyone that you would never have to feel pain like that again, but I should have known that I can’t control life. I’m sorry.”

            “What are you sorry for?” Louis asked rhetorically. He continued, “You’re the best mum I could have ever asked for. You can’t keep me from all the pain in the world, but I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you. If they didn’t kill me first, I would have done it to myself.”

            Jay sucked in a breath, tightening her hold on her son.

            “I love you,” she said.

            “I love you too,” Louis returned.

            After another couple minutes of silence, Jay left Louis alone after being assured that he didn’t need anything but sleep. He cried his way into the dream world, and when he woke up, he felt numb, which was a welcome change. It would be dangerous if he stayed that way too long, he knew, but for now, he was going to embrace feeling nothing.

            That changed two days later, when he received another call from Harry.

            The number on Louis’s caller ID only read ‘unknown,’ so he nearly ignored it completely when something urged him to answer at the last minute.

            When he heard Harry’s voice, he nearly cried, but that didn’t mean much because after being numb for days straight, he was bound to have a break down eventually.

            “Is everything okay, Lou?” Harry asked, somehow noticing that something was off despite the fact that the only thing Louis had said to him was, ‘hey, Harry.’

            “Yeah,” Louis said.

            “Are you sure?” Harry asked.

            “It’s just been a…chaotic few days, but I’m okay.”

            Part of Louis wanted to tell Harry everything, but he didn’t know how often he would hear from Harry; any time could be the last, so he wasn’t going to spend their potential final words complaining.

            “How are you?” Louis asked before Harry had the chance to say anything more.

            “I’m alright,” Harry said. Then, he sighed.

            “Fuck, we’re both lying, aren’t we?”

            “I think so,” Louis replied.

            “Meet me in London this weekend?” Harry asked. Or, at least that’s what Louis heard, but he couldn’t believe that was truly what the other man said, so after turning it around in his mind and trying to figure out if he had heard correctly, he replied with,

            “Sorry, what was that?”

            Just like with the last phone call, Louis’s heart skipped a beat when Harry laughed.

            “Do you want to meet me in London this weekend?” he repeated.

            “You’re in the area?!”

            “No, but I can be in a couple of days.”

            Louis wanted to ask where Harry was getting his money. During their last conversation, he’d told Louis that he had discovered that he had a lucky hand in gambling, but Louis wasn’t sure if he believed him. Of course, he was never sure he believed half of what came out of Harry’s mouth.

            “Where in London?” he said instead.

            “I don’t know yet,” Harry said. “I’ll let you know soon.”

            Louis didn’t expect Harry to ever get back to him. He simply laughed, said ‘okay,’ and enjoyed the rest of the phone call, still very aware that it could be their last.

            The next night, he received a text which read,

_Four Seasons hotel, Friday, noon or after---Haz_

When Louis replied to let him know he’d received the message, he was given an error notice.

            It took quite a bit of begging from Louis to get the weekend off work and it started a fight with his mom when he told her he was meeting a friend without telling her who (she was sure he was meeting some random man off the internet and would end up dead), but Friday morning, Louis hopped into his car and headed to London. His GPS read that he would get there at exactly 12:15. He’d left a few minutes late so as not to seem too excited.

            Louis had failed to count in food and bathroom stops, as well as his terrible direction skills (which were not immune to the use of a GPS), and it was nearing one o’ clock when he actually arrived. Harry’s message had said to arrive at twelve or later, so Louis knew he would probably still be there, but he couldn’t help but to be a little afraid that he’d given up waiting and left already. After all, Harry did have abandonment issues and a tendency to run away from anything that hurt.

            He’d feared for nothing, however. When he arrived, he realized that he had no idea of the room number. It was then that mild panic started to kick in, but, taking a breath, Louis ventured up to the desk.

            “May I help you?” the seemingly friendly desk worker asked.

            “Hi,” Louis replied nervously. “Do you happen to have a registration under the name ‘Harry Styles?’”

            “Let me check,” she said, and pressed some buttons on her keyboard.

            “I’m sorry; I don’t,” she told him sympathetically.

            “Figured,” Louis muttered. Even if Harry had shown up, he would be stupid to use his own name when he was trying to stay invisible.

            “What does he look like?” the worker asked. “I may be able to help.”

            The lady really didn’t know what she could have gotten herself into with asking Louis to describe Harry. Refraining from the urge to tell her ‘perfect,’ Louis said,

            “Um…he’s tall. Brunette. Curly hair. Green eyes. Dimples.”

            “Oh, are you Louis?!” she asked, her eyes lighting up. Pulling his eyebrows together, Louis replied,

            “Yes…”

            “Mr. Edmonson told me you would probably be coming,” she said. After checking something on her computer, she added, “He’s in room 412.”

            “Okay. Thank you,” Louis said, remembering at the last second to smile so he wouldn’t appear rude. Then he headed off to the elevators to go find ‘Mr. Edmonson’ in room 412.

            Louis sincerely hoped that Harry was the true Mr. Edmonson and there wasn’t a mix up or something even worse.

            Again, he’d worried for nothing because a few seconds after knocking on the door, it opened to reveal Harry. He nearly outwardly gasped from relief.

            “Hey, Lou-Lou,” Harry greeted.

            “Hey Haz,” Louis said.

            “Come on in.”

            Harry stepped back, allowing Louis to enter, and then closed the door behind them.

            “I’m glad you came,” Harry said.

            “I’m glad you were here, Mr. Edmonson,” Louis replied, his voice unsteady. He was shaking. He hoped it wasn’t obvious. The nerves, excitement, and even fear were all starting to catch up with him, and now he had to add sadness to the mix.

            Louis hoped that leaving everyone that was hurting him would have done wonders for Harry. He’d held on to the possibility that when he saw the other again, his good health and happiness would shine from the inside out, but Louis should have known better. There was no running from pain; at least not the worst kind.

            The Harry standing in front of Louis looked nothing like the one Louis had created in his head. He was skinny-gaunt, even-and had circles under his eyes, brought out ever more by the thick dark eyeliner Harry wore. His hair was even longer than before and had thinned out quite a bit. Of course, to Louis, Harry was still beautiful, but there was nothing healthy or happy about this man.

            “Want a drink?” Harry asked, opening the hotel’s refrigerator. Louis was surprised it had even been able to shut with all the alcohol shoved inside.

            “I have a couple of coolers with more if none of this appeals to you,” Harry added.

            “You didn’t invite me here for a suicide pact, did you?” Louis asked. Harry raised his eyebrows, looking amused.

            “No,” he said. “Why?”

            “Because if we drink all of this with the three days we have, I’m pretty sure we will both die.”

            Harry laughed. The sound was even better in person.

            “That wasn’t my intention, but it’s a good suggestion. I wouldn’t be opposed.”

            “No!” Louis exclaimed, alarmed. “The week has been shit, Harry, but not quite that bad yet.”

            “Damn,” Harry replied with an ornery smile. “What do you suggest we do, then?”

            “I don’t know,” Louis said, watching as Harry popped the cap off a bottle and sat on one of the beds. He hadn’t noticed before that there were two beds, but now he couldn’t lie to himself and say that he wasn’t at least a little disappointed.

            “You’re not going to make me get drunk at one o’ clock in the afternoon by myself, are you?” Harry asked.

            “I’ll have one,” Louis said. It wasn’t that he was too good to get drunk so early, but he wanted to remember most of his time with Harry when it was all going to be over in three days.

            “You’re so stable,” Harry commented as Louis grabbed a drink for himself and opened it.

            “I’m glad I appear so,” Louis said.

            “You’ve not been okay?” Harry asked, tilting his head in what may or not have been concern.

            “I told my mum and sister the truth about Duke,” Louis explained. “I hadn’t been planning to, and it didn’t go as I’d hoped, either. My sister still doesn’t know if she believes me.”

            Something dark crossed Harry’s face and Louis instantly felt bad. He probably shouldn’t be complaining about his ex to the man who had run away to try and forget him.

            Before Louis could apologize or try to make it right, Harry said,

            “I would vouch for you if I was there.”

            “Thanks,” Louis said, and changed the subject.

            “Then Eli broke up with me to get back with his ex, so there was that.”

            “Are you serious?” Harry asked, his eyes widening.

            “Yup,” Louis said. He took a long drink. Maybe he was going to need more than one after all.

            “Guess I booked a room with two beds for no reason,” Harry commented. That earned him a smile from Louis, and he grinned in return.

            “Doesn’t mean we have to use both of them,” Louis told him.

            “I suppose you’re right,” Harry replied. The two exchanged another smile and unanimously took a drink from their bottles.

            “What made you want to come to London?” Louis asked.

            “I always wanted to go,” Harry said. “I always lived in the shit parts of England when I was young. London was like this magical place in my mind.”

            “But didn’t you come here with…”

            Louis stopped himself. Why could he not remember to refrain from mentioning that man? Maybe he really was just that hard to escape. Louis was sad over what that could mean for Harry.

            “Yes,” Harry answered. “Part of that time was spent in hospital. I thought maybe it would be more magical with you.”

            “I’ll fly out tonight to spread my pixie dust around the city for you,” Louis told him. Harry smiled so wide that his eyes shone, and, for a fleeting instant, he looked happy.

            “You’re so sweet,” he said.

            “I’m glad someone finally noticed!” Louis said.

            “So we’ll play Peter Pan tomorrow,” Harry said. “For now, do you want to turn our hotel room into Alice In Wonderland?”

            Louis frowned, confused by Harry’s references. Then, it clicked.

            “Are you asking me if I want to do drugs with you?” he asked. Harry laughed, and even though he was laughing at him that time, it didn’t matter. Louis was just happy to be the cause of that sound, no matter if it was at his expense or not.

            Yep, it was becoming more glaringly obvious every day why Louis’s life had turned out the way it did.

            “Yes, Louis; that is what I’m asking you,” Harry said.

            “Nah, I’m good,” Louis told him.

            “Are you clean now?” he asked.

            “I don’t really hang around people who do much of that stuff, so I haven’t done it for a while either,” Louis said.

            “Oh,” Harry said. “Well let me know if you change your mind. I was fucking a drug dealer for a while and he gave me the best shit.”

            Louis became irrationally angry at this little piece of knowledge. He didn’t show it.

            “Do you mind if I take something?” Harry asked.

            “I don’t own or control you, Harry,” Louis said.

            That wasn’t truly an answer, and Harry knew it because he simply stared at Louis and chewed his lip for a few moments. Louis was hoping Harry would decide he didn’t need the drugs after all, but then he took a small container full of pills out from the nightstand drawer and popped one into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he swallowed, noticeably feeling better the moment the drug slid down his throat.

            “Ecstasy or acid?” Louis asked. Harry grinned mischievously.

            “A nice little mixture of both,” he told him. That didn’t sound safe, or enjoyable for that matter, to Louis, but he didn’t say so.

            “I’m glad you’re here,” Harry said for the second time.

            “Me too,” Louis said, and he was, even if this wasn’t anything like he’d wanted their time together to go.

            With a smile, Harry closed his eyes and began to hum. Louis let him go for a minute before interrupting.

            “Why can’t you sing anymore?” he asked. Harry stopped humming and opened his eyes, looking at Louis and seeming to feel a bit betrayed.

            “My ex choked me out, remember?” he asked coldly.

            “I know that,” Louis said. “I just mean; your talking voice is normal. You can still hum. So why can’t you sing?”

            “I can,” Harry said. “It just doesn’t sound as good as it used to. I can’t hold out notes for as long, my voice goes rough after a couple of songs and sometimes it cracks completely. I can belt it out in the car, but I had to say goodbye to my dreams of professional singing.”

            “Can I hear you?” Louis asked. Harry narrowed his eyes.

            “I don’t sing on command,” he said.

            “Wasn’t a command,” Louis told him. “Just a question.”

            Harry continued to stare and right when it was starting to get uncomfortable, he broke eye contact and pulled out a cigarette.

            “Want one?” he asked.

            “Is it laced with anything?” Louis asked.

            “No!” Harry exclaimed. “Am I that awful of a person?”

            “No,” Louis replied simply, holding his hand out for a cigarette, which Harry gave him.

            After taking a long drag and then slowly blowing a stream of smoke out of his mouth, Harry asked,

            “So what do you want to do?”

            “Up to you,” Louis said. “Do you see any Cheshire cats yet?”

            “Not yet,” Harry said. “Your colors are beautiful though.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah. You look good blue.”

            Harry sat up. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just flipped on the television and then laid back down, patting the spot on the bed next to him. Taking the invitation, Louis laid down as well. Harry, at first, had a hard time focusing on him, but when they made eye contact, he smiled.

            “Want to watch a movie or something?” Harry asked.

            “Okay,” Louis said.

            Turning on the television, Harry searched for something that was playing on TV, finally settling on A Sci-Fi show. Louis didn’t have any problems with it, but that wasn’t typically a genre that interested Harry, so when he turned to him to ask if that was really what he wanted to watch, he saw that the other man had either fallen asleep or passed out. After making sure that his heart rate and breathing were normal, Louis changed the television to something.

            It didn’t really matter what he landed on though because it wasn’t like he was paying much attention anyway.

            Louis let Harry sleep for a good four hours, but finally, when five thirty rolled around and Louis was starting to get hunger pains, he gently shook the other to rouse him.

            “Hey,” he said gently. Harry groaned.

            “Harry,” Louis kept on. “It’s time to wake up. Let’s go see what magic London has to offer at night.”

            The other man opened one eye, staring at Louis in confusion for a couple moments before laughing through his nose and rubbing his face into the pillow.

            “Tylenol, please, and then maybe we’ll talk.”

            Louis retrieved the medicine from the bag Harry instructed him it was in,, and waited patiently for Harry to take it. He laid there for a couple minutes after and then, with a sigh, he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

            “Alright, what’s the plan?” he asked.

            “First, food,” Louis told him. “I don’t know if you eat or whatever, but I am starving so we’re going to get food.”

            “I eat five hundred calories a day, not including my alcohol,” Harry informed him. “Since I haven’t eaten today, food sounds wonderful.”

            “Harry, that’s not…,” Louis said, but trailed off. Harry already knew it wasn’t healthy. He simply didn’t care and nothing Louis could say would make him.

            “Alright,” Louis said instead. “Are you ready to go?”

            “Let me freshen up.”

            Slowly, Harry got out of bed, grabbed a set of clothes from the dresser and locked himself in the bathroom. When he came back out, he looked much more awake than before. Louis decided he didn’t want to know.

            “I’m ready,” Harry said.

            Louis took Harry to a fancy restaurant. He didn’t think he would be that impressed. However, as soon as they entered and Harry saw the huge chandelier in the main dining room, his eyes lit up.

            “I’m under dressed,” he stated once they were seated with their menus.

            “Me, too,” Louis said. “Why do you think they gave us such a dirty look when we entered?”

            “I’m just used to getting those looks,” Harry said nonchalantly. “It kind of comes with the territory of looking like a member of the walking dead.”

            “I’m assuming you’re getting a drink?” Louis asked.

            “Obviously,” Harry said. “What kind of atrocious person would come to such a fine restaurant and not get the most expensive wine?”

            “Only the worst of people,” Louis agreed.

            After the pair had ordered wine from the bottle, Harry looked at Louis and smiled. It was one of the few times Louis had seen his real grin-the one that made his eyes become ten times brighter-and for that instant, he didn’t look like a zombie anymore.

            Louis’s chest and stomach suddenly felt weird, but luckily, the wine arrived quickly. He still wasn’t planning to drink a lot, but he needed something so as not to explode every time he and Harry looked at each other.

            Knowing Harry wouldn’t want dessert, Louis paid for the meal early when the other went off to the bathroom. When they had finished their dinner, Louis stood up, much to Harry’s obvious confusion, and asked,

            “Are you ready for our next adventure, then?”

            “Don’t we have to pay for this one first?” he asked.

            “Magic doesn’t cost money, Harry.”

            Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly judging Louis.

            “You really want to dine-and-dash?”

            “No,” Louis said, rolling his eyes. “A nice little gnome paid for our dinner already.”

            “Are you sure you didn’t take any of my pills? You can be honest. I won’t be mad if you did.”

            Louis groaned.

            “Harry, I can’t make this night magical if you need answers to everything!”

            “Okay, okay!”

            Harry threw his hands up in the air and stood, putting his napkin neatly on his mostly empty salad bowl.

            “Where are we going next?”

            “It’s a surprise,” Louis said.

            “Of course it is,” Harry replied.

            They took a cab to their next destination and Harry spent the whole time looking out the window, not saying a word. Louis knew that the other wasn’t being rude. He was simply staring out into the night, admiring the twinkling lights and probably getting lost in the world inside of his head.

            When the cab slowed down near the theater, Harry gave Louis a curious look.

            “You know you can’t just walk into a theater and buy tickets to see a play that very night, right?” he questioned.

            “I know,” Louis told him. “I already have tickets.”

            The disbelieving look stayed on Harry’s face, even after Louis pulled the tickets from his jacket pocket and showed them to him.

            “Where did you get those?” he asked.

            “Stole them off a bloke at the restaurant,” Louis said. The shock and horror on Harry’s face made him snort.

            “I’m kidding,” he promised. “Eli and I had been planning to go before we broke up, and I forgot I even had the tickets until I started packing yesterday. But if you don’t want to go…”

            “No!” Harry interrupted quickly. “I mean, yeah, I want to go.”

            “Then we better get in there,” Louis said. “It’s about to start.”

            “Lou, I am _way_ under dressed for this,” Harry said.

            “Me too. Next time we’ll bring our suits, yeah?”

            “Sounds like a plan,” Harry said, his true smile poking through again.

            Louis and Harry made it to their seats a few minutes into the first act. They received dirty looks-both from arriving late and from how they were dressed, Louis was sure-but neither cared. It was hard for Louis to care about anything besides keeping that smile on Harry’s face and the twinkle in his eyes.

            “Was that everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” Louis asked as they left the theater after the show had ended. He asked it in a teasing way, but he hoped Harry would say yes.

            He didn’t disappoint.

            “It was,” he answered.

            “Good,” Louis said.

            “London is much more magical with you,” Harry commented.

            “Well, the night isn’t over yet,” Louis said as he hailed their cab. The excitement was nearly vibrating off Harry.

            “Where to?” the cab driver asked as the men climbed into his vehicle.

            “Any grocery store that’s still open, please,” Louis replied.

            “A grocery store?” Harry asked. “Magical.”

            “It’s just a pit stop,” Louis assured him. Harry smiled to show that he had been teasing anyway.

            At the store, Louis had Harry and the driver wait in the parking lot. After being reminded that his meter was still running, Louis hurried to get the few items he needed.

            By the time he got back to the car, he was shaking and out of breath.

            “For you,” he said, nervously handing Harry the bouquet of roses that were in his arms.

            “Why did you get me flowers?” Harry asked. He wasn’t being unappreciative; he was truly confused.

            “Because you like them but, if I remember correctly, your ex-boyfriend would never buy them because it was ‘too gay,’” Louis said.

            “You remembered correctly,” Harry told him, smiling as he sniffed the roses.

            “Where now?” the driver asked, unamused by the pair’s antics.

            “The nearest London Bridge, please,” Louis instructed.

            Harry looked at Louis as if he was the fifth wonder of the world.

            Louis was pleased to find that there weren’t many people hanging around the bridge so late at night. He and Harry found a secluded place and Louis set up the area with the candles and wine he’d bought.

            “Has anyone ever told you that you’re amazing?” Harry asked.

            “Not really,” Louis answered. Eli had, but then he’d left him for someone else, so he didn’t think it counted anymore.

            Louis quickly poured Harry a glass of wine and Harry thanked him. He knew Harry hadn’t wanted to say anything, but he’d noticeably started to sweat and shake, and not in a nervous way like Louis. He was beginning to have withdrawal symptoms already, though whether they were from alcohol or drugs, Louis didn’t know. He didn’t want to enable Harry, but he’d promised him a magical night, and that did not entail the vomiting or seizures that came with new-found sobriety.

            While they drank their glasses of wine and admired the scenery around them, Louis played music softly from his phone. When they were done with their first glass and Harry appeared to feel a bit better, Louis changed the song currently playing and turned the volume up.

            “‘Beauty and the Beast?’” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth was turned upwards.

            “I can play ‘Beauty and a Beat’ _,_ if you’d prefer,” Louis offered.

            “‘Beauty and the Beast’ is better,” Harry claimed.

“If you say so,” Louis told him.

            “We should dance!” Harry said.

            “I can’t dance, Harry, but feel free to dance all you want.”

            Harry narrowed his eyes.

            “What?” Louis asked.

            “I think the magical powers of the night will help you dance,” he said. Louis laughed loudly, making Harry jump.

            “There’s not enough magic in the world to make that happen, Harry.”

            “Come on!” Harry pleaded, standing and swaying, but then steadying himself and offering a hand to Louis. Before Louis could decide if he was willing to humiliate himself to make Harry happy, the other added, “Or is dancing too gay for you?”

            “On the contrary, it’s too straight for me,” Louis said, accepting Harry’s outstretched hand. It was Harry’s turn to laugh loudly as he helped Louis to his feet.

            “You take the lead,” Louis said. “I’ll stumble along.”

            “I’m sure you’re not that bad,” Harry commented. “Restart the song, please?”

            Louis did, unhappy that he had to let go of Harry to do so. He wasn’t even sure why they’d remained holding hands in the first place, but it had felt nice.

            To his pleasure, once the song was playing from the beginning, Harry stepped forward, putting his arms around Louis’s waist.

            “Yours go around my neck,” he said.

            “I know that!” Louis told him, though the way he’d frozen and stared at Harry like a deer caught in the headlights argued against that statement.

He put his arms around Harry’s neck.

            “You’re very handsome,” Harry said with a smile.

            “You’re very intoxicated,” Louis said.

            “This is pretty sober for me, actually.”

            “Sad.”

            “Eh.”

            Harry spun Louis and then giggled when Louis fell sideways into him.

            “I warned you,” Louis reminded him.

            “You’re just so tense,” Harry said. “Relax a bit.”

            “I can’t,” Louis said.

            “Why?” Harry asked.

            Harry already knew about Louis’s biological parents and the basics of what they did to him. He could have told him how both of his legs had been broken-one of them twice-and had never healed right, so sometimes it took mental concentration to move them properly. Louis had gotten used to the tightness he felt in them most of the time, but running, dancing and jumping were tasks that were much more difficult to him than they should have been.

            Louis didn’t tell him, though, because London had been the ‘magical’ place he’d dreamed of when he was going through virtually the same things as a child. To Louis, London was just another place. Evil people resided there too. Sad kids still existed, even in London, but he wouldn’t bring that reality to Harry.

            “Anxiety, ya know?” Louis said instead. Harry nodded, assuring Louis that he understood.

            “Well, I’m not judging,” Harry assured him.

            “Your turn to twirl,” Louis said. Even though he had to stand on his tip toes and stretch his arms out painfully long, he twirled Harry, who spun much more gracefully than he had.

             “This confirms it; you’re Beauty,” Louis commented as he brought Harry close again and positioned his arms right where they belonged around his neck.

            “Her name is Belle,” Harry said. “And I don’t think so. You’re smaller so you have to be Belle.”

            “But you’re prettier.”

            “Nah.”

            “Yeah.”

            Harry smiled at Louis, ending the argument by taking Louis’s breath away.

            Once the song ended, they broke apart. Harry sighed.

            “I suppose it’s about time to go back to the hotel, isn’t it?” he asked.

            “We can finish the wine first,” Louis said, sitting back down and pouring them both another glass.

            “Excellent idea,” Harry said, sitting down as well and taking a sip.

            They were quiet while they drank, but it was the most peaceful quiet that Louis had ever experienced. Typically, when all was silent and dark, his mind went to things he didn’t like to think about, but tonight was different. He felt calm and at peace. If at all possible, he thought he would live under that bridge with Harry.

            The bad thoughts started to kick in after the pair had cleaned up their mess and called for a taxi. Louis’s first night with Harry was almost over.

            Next to Louis, Harry shifted and the other looked over to see him slipping a pill into his mouth. Smiling guiltily, Harry nodded to Louis.

            “Want one yet?” he asked.

            “Sure; why not?” Louis replied, accepting the small pill from Harry.

            Though it was a tiny pill, it was powerful, and Louis was already starting to feel its effects when the cab arrived only minutes later. The lights on the bridge were heavenly white, the sky was a dark, sparkling blue, and Harry was purple.

            “Harry,” Louis whispered when he saw a particularly bright light heading straight towards him. “I think I’m dying.”

            “Why do you think that?” Harry asked. His voice was abnormally low and distant, though his touch as he placed his hand on Louis’s back felt very close and real.

            “There’s a bright light coming for me, Harry,” Louis said, and he supposed he maybe should have been afraid of the possibility of his impending death, but he wasn’t. Still, he was a little relieved when Harry said,

            “That’s the taxi, Lou.”

            “Oh.”

            Harry kept his hand on Louis’s back, leading him into the cab. The driver of the vehicle was playing loud hip-hop, and the bobblehead on his dashboard was dancing.

            “Four Seasons Hotel, please,” Harry said, since Louis was far too distracted to give instructions himself. He didn’t break eye contact with the lively bobblehead until Harry touched his knee, mouthing ‘are you okay’ once he had Louis’s attention. Louis leaned across the seat to whisper in Harry’s ear.

            “It looks like the bobblehead is dancing,” he said.

            “You really haven’t done anything for a while, have you?” Harry whispered back. Louis shook his head. With a small laugh, Harry scooted to the middle seat and pulled Louis down so that the smaller man could rest his head on his shoulder.

            “This hotel is so pretty,” Louis commented once the cab driver parked and let them out.

            “What color’s it?” Harry asked, his words slightly slurred and his eyes unfocused, but, still; he appeared much more coherent than Louis felt.

            “‘Is like a pinkey-orange color,” Louis told him.

            “That sounds beautiful.”

            “You’re purple,” Louis told him. “Am I still blue?”

            “You look a little more pink now,” Harry said. Louis laughed; snorted.

            The two were alone in the elevator on the way up, and even though it wasn’t a long ride, it seemed to take forever. Harry was looking at Louis as though he were undressing him with his eyes, and the way he was biting his lip made Louis want to rip the other’s clothes off and have his way with him right then and there.

            He thought they both deserved rewards for managing to wait until right after their hotel room door was closed before locking lips. Louis pushed Harry against the wall lightly, and though he gasped, he immediately after began kissing Louis hungrily.

            “You’re so hot,” Louis whispered, starting to suck on Harry’s neck.

            “I love you,” Harry said.

            “Wait; what?!” Louis asked, pulling away and stumbling backwards so far that he hit the opposite wall.

            “I said ‘I love you,’” Harry repeated, unaffected by Louis’s reaction.

            “Why would you say that to me?” Louis asked, his heart pounding painfully.

            “Don’t you love me?” Harry asked.

            “Who told you that?”

            “Just tell me; is it true?”

            Louis didn’t answer for a while. Of course it was still true, even after all the time that had passed and everything the pair had been through, but saying it out loud could either lead to great or horrible things, and Louis wasn’t sure he could deal with either right now.

            “It’s okay if you don’t,” Harry said, fixing his hair and heading to the bathroom.

            “I do,” Louis said right before he closed the door. Harry paused, but didn’t turn around.

            “I do love you,” Louis clarified, closing his eyes against the joy and pain the words brought; somehow at the same time.

            When he opened his eyes again, Harry was looking at him, a small smile on his face.

            “Was it that hard to say?” he asked.

            “How do I know you really love me?” Louis asked.

            “Let me show you,” Harry said, taking a few steps forward. Louis walked towards him as well, stumbling into his arms when he was close enough.

            “I’ve got you,” Harry told him, kissing him on the lips. Louis kissed him back, and the pair were on the bed, both of their shirts off and Louis’s pants unzipped before the smaller man somewhat came to his senses.

            “Harry, wait,” he said.

            “What is it, love?” Harry asked, nipping the other’s ear teasingly. He shivered, but didn’t cave in.

            “We’re both fairly drunk and on drugs,” Louis said. “We don’t know what we’re really feeling right now. We don’t know if we really want to do this.”

            “I really do,” Harry insisted.

            “Not when we’re intoxicated; not the first time,” Louis pleaded. “Please…If you love me…”

            Harry stared at Louis; not angry, just contemplating.

            “I’m clean, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Harry said. “And I have condoms if you don’t believe me.”

            “That wasn’t what I was worried about,” Louis said, even though it probably should have been since Harry admitted he’d been having sex with a drug dealer not too long ago.

            “Are you alright?” Harry asked, moving a stray strand of hair off Louis’s forehead.

            “I’m okay,” he assured him. “I just…I don’t want to be drunk and high the first time we have sex, okay?”

            “Okay,” Harry said, and kissed him once more before laying down next to him.

            “We can cuddle though?” Louis said, though it was more of a question. Harry smiled.

            “Of course,” he said, scooting closer and laying one arm over Louis’s waist. Louis nuzzled his head into Harry’s chest, and with many beautiful colors and shapes playing behind his eyelids, he drifted off.

***Harry***

            Insomnia had been Harry’s worst enemy since moving to Washington D.C. Unless he was trashed out of his mind, sleep was something that didn’t come to him very often. The few hours he’d gotten earlier had been more than he was usually granted in one day, and now, he was paying the price.

            Guilt was the emotion that decided to keep him awake this time. It was a common emotion. Harry had much to feel guilty about, and this time, it was very fresh remorse that plagued him.

            He shouldn’t have told Louis that he loved him. He _did_ love him; that wasn’t the main issue. The problem was that Harry didn’t know how to love properly. He could love with his heart, but he didn’t know how to show it. If he did, he wouldn’t always be beaten or left for someone new.

            If he knew how to love properly, he wouldn’t have made Louis feel like he hated him; wouldn’t have taken him for granted, left, and come back only because he was lonely and couldn’t get the other out of his mind.

            “Harreh?” Louis asked, only semi-conscious, as he raised his sweaty head and looked around with half-closed eyes.

            “I’m right here,” Harry said, reaching out to stroke the other’s cheek.

            “I don’ feel good,” Louis commented, kicking the blankets off himself and then plopping down with a whine.

            “You’re coming down from the pill, love,” Harry told him reassuringly, rubbing his back.

            _If you loved him right, you wouldn’t have given him that drug,_ he chastised himself.

            “No, I don’ feel right,” Louis insisted, sitting up. His eyes were open now, but his head kept bobbing.

            “Maybe a cold bath will help,” Harry suggested.

            “Yeah. Maybe,” Louis agreed.

            “Come on,” Harry said. “I’m going to follow just to make sure you’re alright.”

            “You’re so sweet,” Louis commented. Harry choked up and cleared his throat.

            _Yeah right_ , he thought.

            When Harry stood, a wave of dizziness washed over him as well. He grabbed onto the nightstand and squeezed his eyes shut until it passed. When he opened them again, Louis was stopped halfway across the room, facing Harry. Though Harry couldn’t see him very well in the dark, he knew he had that concerned look of his on his face.

            “I’m okay,” Harry assured him.

            “You coming?” Louis asked.

            “I’m coming.”

            Satisfied enough with that answer, Louis turned.

            Harry wasn’t exactly sure what happened next.

            He didn’t know if Louis had gotten dizzy and fallen, if his legs gave out, or if he had passed out, but it happened in slow motion. As Louis turned, Harry suddenly saw him go down and heard the hard _crack_ as his head hit the side of the desk. He gasped and waited for a few breathless moments, and when Louis didn’t get up, he let out a strangled cry.

            “Louis, no,” he whispered; barely able to speak at all. He ran across the room faster than his physical ability should have allowed and dropped to his knees beside the other. He was lying face down on the floor, and when Harry rolled him over, he moved as easily as a rag doll.

            “Louis, Louis, shit, Lou,” Harry said a little louder, hurrying to turn on the lamp. When he did, he let out another gasp. Louis was pale, his lips even turning white, and a trickle of blood was oozing slowly down his forehead.

            Still cursing to himself, Harry checked Louis’s breathing and pulse. It seemed normal, but he was still unresponsive when Harry shook him and said his name, so Harry ran around the room, throwing objects everywhere until he found his phone. Then, he called for an ambulance.

 

            “Mr. Styles?”

            Harry rose to his tired feet, his weak legs barely supporting him as the doctor made her way over.

            “Is he okay?” he asked, his voice a mere croak.

            “He’s fine,” the doctor said. “Do you mind going over what happened with me again, please?”

            Harry held in his sigh. He’d already told the EMTs and the nurse that had rushed over as soon as they’d reached the hospital, but, for Louis, he would tell it again.

            “We’d been out late, drinking and stuff,” Harry said. He waited a moment, waiting for the doctor to ask what ‘and stuff’ meant, but she didn’t. Perhaps she didn’t want to know. Harry continued,

            “We went back to the hotel and he fell asleep pretty quickly, but he woke up after a bit saying he didn’t feel good. He was on his way to the bathroom and he stopped to see if I was following. When he saw that I was, he turned back around and then…I’m not sure. He fell or something and hit his head on the corner of the desk.”

            “Alright,” the doctor said, nodding at her clipboard. She marked something down and then said, “Well, as I said, Mr. Tomlinson is just fine. He was dehydrated, which I believe caused him to faint. He doesn’t have a concussion. We’re giving him fluids through an IV and then he’ll be good to go.”

            Harry breathed out a sigh of relief.

            “Okay,” he said, sitting down before it was his turn to faint. “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “Is he awake?”

            “He was when I left, but he was pretty sleepy, so I’m not sure about right now. You can go see him, if you’d like.”

            Harry nodded. As soon as he could trust his legs to carry him, he would go see Louis.

            By the time Harry reached his room, Louis was asleep again, but as soon as Harry kissed him on the forehead, next to the bandage, he jolted awake, grabbing onto Harry’s arm.

            “Hey,” Harry said.

            “Hey,” Louis returned, managing to give a small smile despite everything he’d just gone through.

            “How are you feeling?” Harry asked.

            “Better,” Louis said. “Sorry.”

            “What are you apologizing for? You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

            “I killed the magic.”

            “It’s okay, Lou. I’m just glad you didn’t kill yourself!”

            _I’m glad I didn’t kill you._

“You need food,” Louis commented.

            “Do I?” Harry asked, knowing full well that he did.

            “Yes,” Louis said. “And I need food.”

            With a small laugh, Harry said,

            “Okay, point taken.”

            Rising to his feet, he asked,

            “What would you like?”

            “Just something small, please,” Louis requested. “Make sure to get something for you, too.”

            “Yes, sir,” Harry said. “I’ll be right back.”

            There was a vending machine close to Louis’s room, so after getting peanut butter crackers for Louis, pretzels for himself and a bottle of water for them both, he returned to the other man.

            “Thank you!” Louis said, seeming way too excited over peanut butter crackers than anyone should have been.

            “You’re welcome,” Harry assured him.

            The two ate; Harry stopping the moment the feeling of not being hungry settled in, and Louis when his were all gone. Then, the smaller man sighed in content.

            “Thank you,” he said again, his eyes falling shut.

            “You’re welcome,” Harry repeated. Standing up, he kissed Louis’s forehead like he’d done before.

            “Get some rest,” he said.

            “Okay,” Louis agreed.

            “And Lou?”

            “Hm?”

            “I do love you.”

            The small smile that touched Louis’s face almost broke Harry’s heart.

            “Love you too,” he said. Within the next thirty seconds, he was asleep. Harry watched him for a couple moments, making sure to burn everything about this man into his mind. Then, with his throat burning and his eyes welling up with tears, he took Louis’s phone, which he’d made sure to grab before leaving the hotel with the paramedics, and found the contact listed as ‘mum.’

            _Come, please. I need you_ , he typed, and included the address of the hospital.

            Despite the fact that it was only four something in the morning, the woman almost immediately tried calling back. When Harry rejected the call, she sent a text.

            _What happened?!?!?! Are you okay?!?!?!_

 _I’m fine,_ Harry replied for Louis. _Just please; I don’t want to be alone._

_Alone? Where’s your friend? What happened?!_

_I’ll explain when you get here, mum, just please come._

_I’m on my way._

Satisfied, Harry set Louis’s phone on the nightstand, turning up the volume in case his mom needed to reach him. He wanted badly to kiss Louis one more time or tell him he loved him again, but he didn’t deserve to do either of those things. This night had only confirmed his deepest fears; he was an awful, toxic person and people were safer without him around.

            After looking Louis over one last time, Harry did what he was known to do best, and he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to bash Harry at this point. I don't care if he's based off my brother; I invite you all to go off ;) And yes, Louis forgave him way too easily this time, but Harry will get what's coming to him soon :p


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am so sorry that I've sucked at updating :( I THINK I'm at the point where I can do weekly, or at least bi-weekly, updates again. Thank you for your patience!

***Louis***

_Louis was on the floor of Harry’s music room, offering his moral support, as he usually did when Harry was writing. As always he was all smiles. Harry’s music room served as a therapeutic place for the man, but it brought the same type of peace to Louis. This was a place Duke didn’t know Louis frequented. It was somewhere he could be with the person he wished was his instead; listening to him hum tunes or softly sing a line before either scrunching up his face and scribbling something out from his notebook or smiling proudly._

_This was the closest to nirvana Louis was ever going to reach, and it was more than good enough for him._

_“Harry,” Louis said softly. He never interrupted Harry’s train of thought, but suddenly, he felt the need to capture this moment the best he could for when it was gone. Louis was a firm believer in the statement ‘nothing lasts forever.’ He had to be; it was the only thing that got him through the hard times that seemed to consume his life._

_“Hm?” Harry hummed, finishing one particular line before looking up._

_“Smile,” Louis said, snapping a picture on his phone. Harry furrowed his brows in confusion, and then smiled._

_“Belated, but okay,” Louis said, keeping the picture anyway._

_“You didn’t give me much warning,” Harry reasoned._

_“True,” Louis said, and held up his phone again. “One…two…three…smile!”_

_That time, the photograph he took radiated happiness, whether it was real or not. Either way, Harry’s eyes shone brightly and his dimples were out for the world to see._

_“Beautiful,” Louis said, and Harry snorted._

_“You’re cute,” he said, looking to his paper and writing something down quickly before returning his eyes to Louis. The smile he wore was softer than the one in the picture, but, Louis thought, more genuine._

_“If you say so,” Louis said._

_“I do,” Harry said._

_Louis looked down to his phone, savoring the image of Harry; trying to ingrain it in his mind in case Duke took or broke his phone again._

_On second thought, Louis better e-mail it to himself._

_He was in the middle of doing just that when Harry said his name. As soon as he looked up, Louis was met with the ‘click’ of Harry’s phone taking a picture._

_Louis found it endearing that Harry hadn’t turned off the sound effect for the camera._

_“You were already smiling,” Harry explained. “It’s a good look on you.”_

_“What are you talking about? I smile all the time,” Louis claimed._

_“Yeah, and I’m pure as the Virgin Mary.”_

_Louis’s smile widened, and Harry took another picture._

_“Now we’re even,” he said._

_“Hardly,” Louis told him._

***

The moment Louis opened his eyes and saw his mom there, he knew. He should have known from the start that Harry was just going to leave, like he always did, but Louis was a bad mixture of hopeful and unintelligent, so he’d truly believed him when he said that he loved him, and he had assumed it meant he would stay.

            A strangled whine came from Louis’s throat as reality and pain came crashing down, hurting him worse than his head, which was really saying something.

            His mom, of course, didn’t know any of the pain was internal.

            “Hey, sweetie,” she greeted him softly. Louis hadn’t heard her use that voice since he was sick as a child. He huffed in protest and winced as he sat up. Despite the fluids dripping into his system, he barely had any energy.

            “Harry didn’t say where he was going, did he?” Louis asked.

            “Who?” his mom asked, her eyebrows rising. Louis fell silent. He’d forgotten that he hadn’t told her who he was meeting.

            “My mate,” Louis said after a too-long pause. It wasn’t like Harry was a rare name. She probably wouldn’t put the pieces together.

            Except Louis also forgot that his mom somehow seemed to know everything, at least most of the time.

            “Duke’s boyfriend?!” she asked. Louis could see the alarms going off in her head.

            “He was my mate before he was Duke’s boyfriend,” Louis said. “And they’re not together anymore.”

            He should have just told her no; that wasn’t the Harry he was talking about, but he’d had enough with lying to his mom. It was too draining. Besides, he doubted she would find Harry even if she tried. When Harry wanted to disappear, he did; just like a ghost.

            “Hasn’t he been missing?” Jay asked, looking at Louis accusingly. He fought with himself not to get angry; not even sure what she could have been accusing him of.

            “I guess, technically,” Louis said.

            “Louis, why didn’t you tell anyone you were meeting with him?!”

            “I wouldn’t betray him like that.”

            “Louis, he is a missing person!”

            “They’ve never filed a report.”

            “You need to call his sister! What is her name again?”

            “Gemma. And to be honest, no one seemed to really care that he was gone.”

            _Except me._

“Of course Gemma cares!” Jay exclaimed. “Harry is her brother! Can you imagine how Lottie would feel if you went missing?!”

            “I don’t really think she would give a single shit, mum.”

            “Of course she would, Louis. She loves you. She just needs time to process it all.”

            Louis hummed noncommittally. Jay said,

            “I’m going to see if Harry is in the cafeteria.”

            “He’s not,” Louis told her, almost laughing at the idea.

            “I thought you didn’t know where he was?”

            “I don’t, but I know he’s gone. He’s certainly not in the cafeteria, of all places.”

            “I’m going to go look anyway.”

            “Okay, mum.”

            “What exactly does he look like again?”

            Sighing, Louis opened his mouth to begin describing Harry for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, but then he shook his head and grabbed his phone instead.

            “He looks like this,” he told his mother, showing her the picture of Harry he’d kept from so long ago. “Except now he’s skinnier and more tired.”

            After taking a good look at the picture, Jay nodded.

            “I’ll be back,” she said.

            “You’re wasting your time,” Louis told her, but she left anyway.

            After giving the photograph that was displayed on his phone one last look, Louis rolled his eyes and went to delete it, but changed his mind at the last second.

            Sighing again, this time at himself, Louis put his phone on the nightstand and closed his eyes. It helped the pain in his head, but made the emotional pain worse, so he quickly opened them again.

            Why had Harry saved his life if he was just going to turn around and make Louis wish he were dead years later?

            The doctor came to kick Louis out while his mother was in her futile mission to find Harry, so Louis sent her a text to let her know he was on his way to wait out front of the hospital. It was then that he figured out how she had known where he was in the first place. Harry had taken his phone and messaged her.

            At least he let someone know where he was, Louis thought, but then shook it from his head. The fact that Harry had messaged his mom made no difference. He was a terrible person; a coward, and Louis wished he were there so he could tell him that to his face before curling back in bed and falling asleep next to him.

            “I couldn’t find Harry,” Jay told Louis when she arrived outside only moments after he had.

            “What a surprise,” Louis said, making his sarcasm crystal clear. Jay narrowed her eyes.

            “There’s no need for that attitude, Louis.”

            Louis said nothing. Deciding to let him off the hook for the time being, Jay put her arm around him and led him to her car.

            For an instant, Louis got his hopes up that Harry would be in the hotel room, but he wasn’t surprised when they arrived and he found out that he wasn’t; Disappointed, yes, but not surprised.

            It turned out to be a good thing that Harry booked a room with two beds because both Louis and his mom were too exhausted to make the trip back home, so they slept there for a few hours before the drive.

            “Don’t we need to check out?” Jay asked her son as they headed to her car the next morning.

            “The room’s not under my name,” Louis said. “Let Mr. Edmonson get in trouble for that.”

            “Who?”

            “Exactly.”

            Jay sighed. Louis was stung by the disappointment he knew she still felt, but it was something they both should have been used to.

            Somehow, Louis didn’t cry on the way home. He didn’t even start crying when he was locked in his bedroom, alone, but after he woke up from the fitful sleep he had quickly fallen into, the tears came. He was hurt, angry and embarrassed that he was stupid enough to fall for people who were completely fine with telling him lies and causing him pain over and over again.

 

            While England had once been a safe haven to Louis, it didn’t offer any comfort for the next month-and-a-half. Suddenly, it was like he was back in California, but without the friends and sunshine.

            Since he was working on saving enough money to move out from his mom, Louis didn’t want to spend any on the therapy his mother so desperately wanted him to attend. As long as he took his pills, he was safe from ending his life, as much as he didn’t want to be living it. He’d gone to one therapy session since the incident with Harry and they hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know anyway. He was impulsive with a tendency to make harmful decisions. He was looking for a man to show him the love he’d always felt like he was missing; blah blah blah.

            When the therapist asked him what he could do about it and he hadn’t a clue, she gave him some motivational quotes to repeat to himself daily and told him to think of three ways he could possibly improve his well-being.

            Louis never completed that homework assignment, but it wasn’t like she would ever know.

            Never did Louis think he would miss California. Yes, he missed Niall, Zayn, and even Liam, who he barely knew, and his sister, who hated him, but he couldn’t see himself missing the place until he found himself researching apartments near his old home in America. All of them were out of his price range, even the disgusting ones, and he suddenly understood why Harry had prostituted himself. Louis would have to work three minimum wage jobs to live even somewhat comfortably.

            He wondered if Niall would accept him as a flat mate again.

            Just as Louis was turning the thought over in his mind, his phone vibrated from its spot on the desk and his Irish friend’s name shone up at him.

            “Hey, Niall!” Louis greeted chipperly. It took a moment for Niall to reply.

            “Hey, Lou,” he said, seeming unsure. “What are you doing?”

            “Nothing, really!”

            “Are you drunk or high?”

            “No. Why?”

            “You sound…happy…”

            “I’m in rare form,” Louis agreed.

            “Well, then, I’m going to wait to tell you why I called. Let me know when you turn back into a zombie.”

            “I haven’t been a zombie!”  Louis said defensively. He didn’t want to be associated with anything that Harry had called himself. In reality, though, he knew it was kind of true. It had been hard for him to express happiness lately, mainly because he’d forgotten what it felt like, and he hadn’t made much contact with his friends because of it. Like the good people they were, they never stopped trying, though.

            Everyone knew that he’d met Harry. Jay had told Lottie, who told Gemma, who told everyone. Gemma hadn’t been angry with Louis, which he supposed he was grateful for, but at the same time, he felt that confirmed his suspicions; she didn’t really care.

            Of course, Louis was beginning to feel like Harry didn’t care about anyone so maybe it served him right.

            “Tell me why you called,” Louis said to Niall.

            “Nah. So what’s up?”

            “I’m going to hang up on you if you don’t tell me why you called.”

            “It’s about Harry.”

            “Oh, never mind. I don’t care. I hate him.”

            “I don’t think you hate him,” Niall disagreed.

            “I do,” Louis told him. “I really, really do.”

            “About fucking time, then,” Niall said. Louis’s mouth fell open as he fought off a sound of protest.

            “So what’s up?” Niall asked for the third time.

            “What were you going to tell me?” Louis asked begrudgingly.

            “Not a thing,” Niall said.

            “Niall!” Louis whined.

            “What?” the other man asked. “Why would you care that they found your mortal enemy?”

            Louis felt a jolt like electricity at the words. Momentarily, he was happy, but that happiness faded away quickly and turned into fear as questions plagued him. Who were ‘they?’ Where had Harry been? In what condition? How was he now; physically and otherwise?

            “Lou?” Niall prodded when his friend didn’t respond.

            “How?” he asked, which wasn’t a clear question, but Niall seemed to understand anyway.

            “The police found him in Vegas, overdosed underneath the Eiffel Tower.”

            If Louis had any breath at that time, he would have screamed.

            “He’s not dead,” Niall was quick to assure Louis; apparently reading his mind again. “He’s in the hospital right now, but he should be out in a day or two. I don’t know what they’re going to do with him legally yet.”

            “He needs to get in trouble,” Louis said. “That’s the only way he’s going to get help.”

            “I agree,” Niall said. “But he doesn’t want help. He’ll do anything to avoid getting it. He wants to die, Lou.”

            “If he really wanted to, he’d be dead by now,” Louis said. Niall hesitated.

            “Maybe,” he finally said.

            “Well,” Louis started, and then cleared his throat. He was alarmed to find that his eyes were wet. “We’ll see how long it takes them to lose him again.”

            “But anyway,” Niall said then, making his tone much cheerier, “we’ll find you someone else. Hey, why don’t you move back to California and we’ll see if Liam knows any decent single blokes? I’m sure he does. That guy knows everyone.”

            “Nooooo,” Louis said, shaking his head even though Niall couldn’t see. “I’m done with dating.”

            Niall actually had the nerve to laugh.

            “Sure you are,” he said.

            “I am,” Louis said. “Men are awful.”

            “So…on to women then?”

            “No,” Louis said yet again. “Women are awful. Everyone is awful.”

            “Hey! I’m personally offended.”

            “Sorry. Besides you, Zayn, Liam, and my mum, everyone is awful. But my mum is my mum, Zayn and Liam are soul mates, and you’re dating Malibu Ken.”

            “Hey!” Niall said again, but he laughed that time. “Nolan didn’t deserve that.”

            Niall had met Nolan at the same beach party Louis had attended with Eli only a couple months ago. Louis hadn’t known until recently, but Nolan had been there with a couple of his married friends. He’d seen Niall in the distance during a time where he was alone and asked if he would be his partner for a game of ‘beach darts.’ Niall, being the friendly man he was, agreed.

            Being the single, sex-deprived man that he was, he ended up in Nolan’s hotel room later.

            Nolan lived a couple hours away from Niall, but that didn’t hinder the pair. Until school started again, Niall was only home for a couple days a week; spending the rest of the time with Nolan. Nolan traveled to him sometimes as well, but given that he worked at a news station, he couldn’t travel the way Niall could.

            Somehow, once school started, he found a way to make it work, and the two still saw each other two or three times a week.

            Louis liked Nolan; or at least what he’d heard about him. He seemed sweet; like someone Niall actually deserved, but his tan skin, artfully messy brown hair, wide brown eyes and perfect smile made him look like Malibu Ken, despite the fact that he was actually from some Southern American state. Louis didn’t know exactly where, and Niall had told him enough times that he should have remembered, so he didn’t want to ask again. All he knew was that Nolan looked like _that_ and talked with a bit of a Southern drawl.

            So even though Louis liked Nolan, he kind of hated him as well.

            “You’re right,” Louis agreed with his friend, because as jealous as he may be, he was happy for the other man too. It wasn’t his fault that he and Louis couldn’t fall in love, no matter how compatible they seemed to be, and Louis was glad he had someone better than him. “Sorry.”

            “No worries,” Niall assured him. “Well find you your own Malibu Ken!”

            “Malibu isn’t really my type,” Louis pointed out. 

            “You’re right,” Niall said. “You do like them a bit more tortured looking.”

            Louis chose not to say anything, though Niall was right.

            “When are you coming back to California?” Niall asked.

            “Actually…,” Louis began. When he didn’t go on, Niall asked,

            “Are you here now?!”

            “No, not now,” Louis said. “I am currently looking at places in California, though.”

            “Like, to move back?!”

            “Yeah. Maybe.”

            Louis added the last part since he wasn’t quite ready to commit to a plan yet.

            Niall made some inhuman noise of excitement.

            “My best friend is coming back!” he exclaimed to no one in particular.

            “Maybe,” Louis reminded him.

            “Yeah, yeah,” Niall said. “You’ll be back. In the meantime, I’ll get with Liam and ask him about any single friends.”

            “Niall,” Louis warned. He must have known the threat was empty because he simply said,

            “I’m doing it. We’ll find you a nice, decent man, Lou; don’t you worry.”

            “I wasn’t worrying.”

            “Good.”

            Louis heard noise as Niall shifted the phone and then he said,

            “Nolan’s on the other line. Let me tell him I’ll call him back real quick.”

            “You can go talk to him,” Louis said.

            “But I haven’t talked to you in forever.”

            “I’m tired anyway. Call me tomorrow.”

            “Will you answer?”

            “Yes.”

            “Alright.”

            “Just keep me updated on…you know…okay?”

            “I will.”

            “Thanks. Talk to you later.”

            “Night, Lou.”

            Louis continued mindlessly scrolling through apartments in California after hanging up with Niall. He knew it was pointless. He didn’t have nearly enough money for a deposit on a place and, should he move to California, he had no idea how long it would take him to get a job. Zayn would probably hire him back at the shop, but Louis was a few months out of practice, so he wouldn’t want to take on the big jobs until he fell back into the swing of things.

            Still, Louis couldn’t stop his heart beat from racing, even after he turned off his laptop and tried to get to sleep. The thought of moving to California again excited and scared him, and he’d always heard that feeling those two emotions at the same time meant that something was right.

            Of course, that was exactly how he’d felt while going to meet Harry in London and everyone knew how that turned out.

            He slept fitfully. Every time he drifted off, he dreamt that he was on a plane, heading far away from Europe.

            Eventually, after waking up in a sweat, he booked a plane ticket using the last bit of money in his account, knowing he could try to sell the ticket back if he changed his mind.

            The bigger part of him knew he wouldn’t change his mind.

            Not wanting to hear his mother’s protests or see her upset for longer than necessary, Louis didn’t tell her of his plans until the day before he was set to leave. As he knew she would, she tried to get him to stay, even telling him she would give him back the money he’d paid for a plane ticket, but Louis didn’t give in. He didn’t know what he expected to find in California that he hadn’t last time, but he felt, deep down, that he’d made the right decision, and when she asked, he could honestly tell his mother that no; it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Harry was there. That had barely even crossed his mind.

            Niall told Louis that Harry had been punished with community service, and while Louis didn’t think Harry was stupid enough to run from the law, he hadn’t a doubt in his mind that, once he had served his sentence, he would be gone again.

            Though he hadn’t talked to his friend about it, Louis told his mother that he was staying with Niall. The man would probably be okay with that, Louis thought, and if not, he always had Zayn as a back-up.

            Louis, however, wasn’t the type of man to ask for help, so he came up with the flawed plan to simply show up on Niall’s doorstep and have him offer a place to stay.

            Once he finally landed in California, Louis expected all of his excitement and fear to return full force, but after such a long flight, he found he was too tired to feel much of anything. It took everything he had in him to find his bags, call a cab, and give them Niall’s address.

            Stupidly, he didn’t ask the cab to wait when he reached his friend’s house. He’d had no reason to believe that Niall wouldn’t open the door, give Louis that huge, bright smile of his, and pull him into the house. The two would probably order pizza and wings and pass out downstairs watching a film. In the old days, he knew that was exactly how things would have played out.

            Louis failed to take into consideration the fact that everyone but him had changed and grown during the past few months, and his plan already wasn’t going as expected when he rang the doorbell and Nolan answered instead of Niall.

            Nolan was even cuter in person than he was in pictures and Louis found himself struggling not to narrow his eyes at the other man.

            For a moment, both were silent. Louis simply had no idea what to say or how to explain himself, and Nolan was studying Louis curiously, though not in an unfriendly manner.

            “Hey…,” Louis finally said first after what felt to be at least a solid minute. He was sure, in reality, it hadn’t been that long, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was. “I’m Louis.”

            “Louis!” Nolan exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I knew you looked familiar! Sorry, Niall didn’t tell me you were in town! Come on in!”

            “Niall doesn’t know I’m in town,” Louis admitted as he entered. Though he was perfectly capable of handling both of his bags by himself, Nolan insisted on taking one and setting it out of the way. Louis placed the other beside of it, refraining from asking where his friend was. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait too long to find out.

            “Niall’s up in the shower,” Nolan answered his unspoken question. “He should be down in a minute.”

            “Oh, okay.”

            After a brief pause, Louis asked,

            “Am I interrupting anything?”

            “No! Of course not!” Nolan said, but Louis felt he was probably much too nice to admit if he was. “Would you like anything to drink? We were just about to order some Chinese food if you want to look over the menu.”

            “No, thank you,” Louis replied. “I’m not staying long. I just came to say hey.”

            “Oh,” Nolan said, and looked as if he were going to make another comment, but something behind Louis drew his attention away. Turning, Louis came face-to-face with a shirtless Niall, who was gaping at him.

            “Hey, mate,” Louis said, managing to smile even though, suddenly, everything was hurting again.

            “What the fuck?” Niall asked, though he did so with a smile. The next thing he knew, his friend was pulling him into a tight hug.

            “Surprise,” Louis said with a small laugh.

            “No kidding!” Niall said. He held onto Louis for a few moments before letting go. Louis wanted to glance back at Nolan, wondering what he would see on his face. Of course, there was a good chance that Nolan didn’t know the history Louis and Niall had and so there would be no reason for him to feel threatened.

            There would be no reason to feel threatened by him anyway, Louis reminded himself.      

            “When did you get in?” Niall asked.

            “Um…about an hour ago,” Louis answered after glancing at the time from the digital clock on the stove.

            “You’re probably exhausted,” Niall said. “Sit down. I’ll get you a beer. Nolan and I are about to order some Chinese.”

            “He told me, but I’m actually not staying long,” Louis said. “I just came to say hi and ask if I could possibly use my car for a bit.”

            “You don’t have to ask to use your own car,” Niall said. “Are you sure, though? We were ordering from that amazing place you and I were obsessed with for a while.”

            “I’m sure,” Louis said. He’d been starving on the plane, but he was past hungry now.

            “Where are you staying?” Niall asked, looking concerned.

            “With Zayn,” Louis lied quickly.

            “Zayn?” Niall repeated, his brows furrowing together.

            “You know; tattooed, dark hair, has an annoying little ‘friend’ named Isabelle? That Zayn.”

            Louis used air quotations for the word ‘friend,’ because while Zayn referenced her as such, Louis couldn’t stand the woman, real or not.

            “I know who Zayn is, you oaf,” Niall said, rolling his eyes. “I’m just confused because he’s out of town with Liam for the next few days.”

            Louis’s heart plummeted, but he was careful not to show it and came up with another lie quickly.

            “I know, but he left his spare key for me.”

            “Oh, alright,” Niall said, and Louis wasn’t sure he believed him. Then, he asked, “Hey, why didn’t I know you were coming if Zayn knew?!”

            “I like him more,” Louis teased. Niall made a show out of looking offended, but Louis was too tired to keep playing along, so he said,

            “Anyway, I better go. I’m exhausted.”

            “Wait, how long are you in town for?”

            “Indefinitely.”

            “Really?!”

            Niall smiled as if Louis had just given him the best news in the world, and for a moment, everything hurt a little less.

            “Really,” Louis said. “I’ll see you soon.”

            Turning to Nolan, Louis said,

            “It was nice to meet you!”

            “You too,” Nolan said with a kind smile. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

            “Yeah, I’m sure.”

            Niall walked Louis to his car, carrying both of his bags for him and only handing over the car keys after he’d put them in the trunk.

            “I’m glad you’re back,” Niall said, “but please tell me you didn’t only come back for a certain guy who doesn’t deserve you?”

            “No,” Louis said. “It’s not like he’ll be around after his sentence anyway.”

            “I don’t know,” Niall said. “Weekly drug testing is part of his sentence, so now that he’s clean, who knows what he’ll do?”

            Niall must have seen the intrigue on Louis’s face because he narrowed his eyes and added, “it still wouldn’t be a good relationship for you, Lou.”

            “I know,” Louis assured him, though he didn’t wholeheartedly agree.

            “Good,” Niall replied, “because Liam said he knows someone who could be perfect for you.”  
            “Oh my god,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes. “What did I say about hooking me up with someone?”

            Niall smiled unapologetically.

            “Now you know how it feels to have a best mate who doesn’t fucking listen.”

            After saying goodbye to Niall, Louis drove off, though he had no idea where he was going. If Zayn had known Louis was going to need a place to stay, then he probably would have found a way to get a spare key to him, but Louis doubted that his paranoid friend left a key hidden anywhere around his lot otherwise. Louis _didn’t_ have paranoid schizophrenia and he wouldn’t even want to do that.

            Louis supposed he could ask his sister if he could crash with her, but he wasn’t sure she would say yes. It was odd, he thought, that she liked him more when she thought he’d beaten his ex-husband than now, when she knew the truth; unless, of course, she was still convincing herself that Louis was lying.

            Maybe Harry would stand up for him like he told him he would do when they were in London, Louis thought temporarily, but that probably wouldn’t be the case. Harry was good at saying what people wanted to hear without meaning a word of it.

            Worse than Lottie telling Louis no if he asked to stay with her would be if she said yes out of a feeling of obligation. Louis wouldn’t be able to stand fighting with her again or having her completely ignore him while her fiancé made forced small talk.

            At least sleeping in his car was something he’d grown quite used to.

            Louis drove around for a bit, until he had just over a quarter tank of gas left. By that time, it was getting dark anyway, and he pulled off to the side of the highway and shut his car down. Luckily, it was a perfect night to fall asleep with his windows and sun roof rolled down, and Louis was exhausted enough that the feelings of loneliness and not belonging didn’t even keep him awake.

            The next morning, Louis was brought to a rude awakening by a tapping at his window. He jumped and his eyes flew open, though he shut them again quickly. He hadn’t a doubt that it was the police who had woken him to make sure he was alright and then, once discovering that he was okay, at least for all intents and purposes, they would tell him to get a move on to his next, unknown destination.

            There was another tap at the window and Louis groaned, but slowly opened his eyes. It wasn’t the police who had found him after all, but after seeing the face that was staring in at him, a small smile on his face, Louis almost wished it had been.

            “What do you want?” Louis shouted, but Harry shook his head and motioned to the window, which Louis must have closed so stone during the night, and signaling for Louis to roll it down. Groaning again and muttering under his breath about how he shouldn’t do anything Harry asked him to, Louis climbed into the front seat and turned the key in his ignition to give his car just enough juice to be able to roll the window down.

            “What do you want?” he asked again.

            “Me? I don’t want anything,” Harry said. “You’ve given everyone else quite a scare, though.”

            “Is that so?”

            “Yes. Can’t say I blame them, of course. You don’t tell anyone you’re arriving, then you claim to be staying at a friend’s house who’s out of town before falling completely off the grid.”

            “Not completely,” Louis said. “You found me.”

            “Tracked your phone,” Harry explained, holding up his own. “If you want, I can give you some pointers on running away.”

            “Alright, just leave out the part where I have to overdose in Las Vegas, okay?”

            Louis wasn’t trying to be funny and became slightly irritated when Harry laughed.

            “You live and you learn,” he said.

            “So you found me,” Louis spoke again. “Can you please go back and tell everyone I’m fine and will see them whenever I find a job and get a place to live?”

            “Well, you see, if you don’t go back and _show_ them that you’re fine, I’m afraid they’ll hire a search team for you.”

            “They wouldn’t do that.”

            “Your mum was saying we should call the police, and I think Niall was about to. At any rate, Liam and Zayn are setting to head home if you’re not found and you don’t want to ruin their vacation, do you?”

            “Don’t you put a guilt trip on me,” Louis warned, narrowing his eyes. Harry was still completely unaffected, a smile still on his face.

            It was strange, Louis thought, the similarities and differences between drug addict Harry and clean Harry. The Harry that was on drugs rarely smiled and seemed dead in every way except the literal sense. Sober Harry rarely _stopped_ smiling and there was an ever-present, animated twinkle in his eye. He held himself perfectly, always seeming to be posing.

            To Louis, it still reminded him of death.

            “I’m not trying to do any such thing,” Harry claimed. “Come on, Lou. You don’t have to sleep in your car.”

            “Don’t call me ‘Lou.’ I’m mad at you,” Louis said.

            “I figured as much. _So_ sorry, Louis,” Harry said. He didn’t sound sorry at all. Louis rolled his eyes, though he felt guilty about it.

            “I’ll go back, but I’m not going with you. Get off my car, please.”

            Harry held up his hands and backed up. Huffing, Louis tried to start his car, but the engine wouldn’t turn over. He tried again and again, but all his car did was make a pathetic sound and then die. Apparently rolling down the windows was the last task this old car could manage.

            Making a noise that was somewhere between a groan, a cry, and a scream, Louis hit his head against his steering wheel.

            “Need a ride?” a voice from outside asked.

            “I hate you,” Louis said. He didn’t mean it, but he figured Harry wouldn’t care either way.

            As he figured, Harry laughed.

            “You’re not the only one,” he said. “Do you hate me enough to pay for Uber though?”

            “Yes, if I had a single cent left in my name,” Louis said.

            “In that case, do you hate me enough to walk all the way back?”

            Louis raised his head, looking at Harry as he chewed the inside of his cheek. He hated that smug little look on that pretty, pretty face; even prettier now that he had a healthier glow to his skin and a slight blush to his cheeks. He still had a way to go to be completely recovered, physically and otherwise, but it was amazing how much change only a few weeks brought.

            “No,” Louis finally said. “I don’t hate you quite that much.”

            “Great!”

            Harry took it upon himself to reach through Louis’s open window and unlock the door before opening it for Louis. Louis didn’t thank him as he stepped out of the car.

            Luckily, Louis could open his trunk manually and retrieve his bags. He would call the towing service later.

            “Where am I taking you?” Harry asked as he buckled his seatbelt and started up his car; a new car, by the looks of it.

            “I don’t know,” Louis admitted. “I don’t really want to face Niall right now.”

            “He was quite angry,” Harry said with an amused expression on his face. “I would offer to take you with me, but, one; you hate me and two; you don’t want to go where I’m going.”

            “Where are you staying, Harry?” Louis asked with a sigh, feeling as if he already knew the answer. Harry hummed, not actually replying as he turned onto the highway.

            “You went back to him, didn’t you?” Louis pressed.

            “It’s different now,” Harry said, and Louis didn’t feel guilty when he rolled his eyes that time.

            “Those drugs really fried your brain cells, Harry,” Louis told him.

            “He very well may be faking it and I know that,” Harry said. “But he’s not dumb enough to do anything to me while I’m under close observation of the law.”

            “And what happens after that?”

            “I guess we’ll see.”

            “Yes, I’m sure we will.”

            A couple beats of silence passed. Louis wasn’t sure where they were headed and almost asked, but didn’t. He supposed he would know soon enough. Instead, he said,

            “How was getting clean?”

            “The withdrawals were awful, of course,” Harry said, his nonchalant tone not matching his words. “I lost count of how many seizures I had, and I lost six pounds from being so sick. Even _I_ thought I looked too skinny, and that’s really saying something.”

            “You look good,” Louis said begrudgingly. Harry’s ever-present grin grew.

            “Thank you,” he said.

            “Mhm.”

            The rest of the ride was silent, but it wasn’t long before Harry was pulling up in front of Lottie’s house. Louis wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but he couldn’t even contemplate whether he wanted to ask Harry to take him somewhere else because as soon as the car was in park, the front door flung open and Lottie ran out; Ricky following slowly behind her.

            “Oh my god!” Lottie cried, pushing against Louis’s shoulder slightly before pulling him into a hug. “You scared the shit out of me!”

            “Sorry?” Louis said, confused by her reaction. After a moment, he remembered to hug her back.

            “I thought you went and killed yourself or got yourself stolen!”

            “If someone stole me, they would have brought me back,” Louis said lightly. Lottie pulled away, narrowing her eyes.

            “I have to go call mum,” she said, hurrying inside. Louis’s eyes went to Ricky, who nodded.

            “How are you, Louis?” he asked.

            “To be honest, I’ve really got to take a piss,” Louis said. The man laughed.

            “Alright. Come on in.”

            Louis followed him inside and Harry trailed behind, carrying Louis’s bags. Louis almost offered to take them, but didn’t.

            He was disappointed to find, however, that Harry had already left by the time he got out of the bathroom. It wasn’t like he should have expected anything more, he supposed, and he was angry at himself for being disappointed in the first place. Harry had a way of coming in and out of his life like magic; always leaving Louis bewildered and wanting more.

            “Are you hungry?” Lottie asked.

            “Starving,” Louis admitted. “I think my insides have begun to eat themselves.”

            “I’ll make pancakes,” Lottie said, “and then after that, you need a shower.”

            Despite everything, Louis laughed.

            “I know I do,” he admitted.

            Lottie even managed to grin a bit.

            “After _that_ , I think we need to talk,” she said.

            “Can’t we talk while the pancakes are cooking?” Louis asked, growing nervous, as most people did over the ‘we need to talk’ phrase.

            For a moment, Louis thought he saw a look of sympathy cross his sister’s face. He didn’t like people to feel sorry for him, but it was better than the alternative.

            “Let me tell Ricky to start breakfast,” she said.

            Louis’s heart was hammering as he and Lottie sat down on the guest bed; away from her fiancé so they could have some privacy. He refused to be the first one to speak; instead biting his lip and reminding himself to breathe.

            It didn’t seem as if Lottie was ever going to say anything and Louis wondered if they were both simply going to sit there awkwardly until they died. Eventually, after a long, deep sigh, his sister began.

            “I’m sorry,” she said, and it seemed to take a lot out of her, but Louis let out a breath, a weight being lifted from his chest at the words.

            “You’re sorry?” he asked, still needing clarification.

            “Yes,” Lottie affirmed. “Harry told me that you were telling the truth.”

            Infuriatingly, tears immediately poked at Louis’s eyes. He blinked and swallowed them away quickly, trying to ignore the gratitude he felt towards Harry because he was still mad at him and this was the least he could do, really.

            Worse than gratitude was a feeling like love that formed when Louis thought of how much courage it had to have taken him to tell Lottie. There were a lot of ways in which Harry seemed anything but brave, but more often than not, he ended up surprising Louis.

            “Lou?” Lottie prodded and Louis physically shook himself.

            “Do you believe him?” Louis asked.

            “He’s got no reason to lie,” Lottie concluded after taking a moment to think.

            “And I did?” Louis asked.

            “Well…Yeah, a little. It was more than that, though, Lou.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “It took me a long time to digest the fact that you’d apparently been beating your husband. That wasn’t the you I knew, and it wasn’t a version of you I like to picture, but I had finally come to terms with it. You seemed to be doing better and I told myself that things were changing. Then you told me that everything I’d come to know as the truth was a lie and I suddenly had to see you as the victim. I don’t like to think of you hurting someone, Louis, but it’s worse to think of someone hurting you. I could make sense out of you lashing out; it’s how you were raised until mum took you in. It was different to understand how you would let yourself be treated that way again.”

            “It’s what I learned to expect,” Louis said with a shrug. “When you’re told from a young age that you’re worthless and you deserve the pain, it becomes ingrained in you. You and mum did everything you could to show me that wasn’t true, and mostly I believe it, but there will always be doubts.”

            For only an instant, Louis saw Lottie tear up as well but, like him, she quickly forced them away. Unable to find anything to say, she pulled her brother into another hug. It startled him again. It wasn’t that he thought his sister would ever physically hurt him, but the two had never been the type to hug or share their deepest feelings with each other, even when they got along.

            “Should we tell Gemma about Duke?” Lottie asked, still holding onto her brother.

            “What for?” Louis asked, keeping her in a hug as well.

            “Harry is living with that man.”

            “Yeah, but, unfortunately, it won’t make any difference if Gemma knows or not. Harry isn’t going to stop seeing him until he wants to.”

            _Or until he’s dead,_ Louis thought, but he didn’t dare speak those thoughts into existence.

            “I don’t understand how he keeps his boyfriends if he…if he hurts them like that,” Lottie said.

            “He finds damaged souls who fall for all the right words at the right times and are so desperate for affection that they’re willing to suffer for it.”

            Lottie sighed, finally letting go of Louis.

            “You’re not ever going back, right?” she asked.

            “He has Harry. He doesn’t need me.”

            The woman gave Louis a reproachful, yet worried, look.

            “But even if he wasn’t?”

            Louis shook his head.

            “No, Lots,” he said. “I’m not ever going back.”

            “Good,” she said, and then she smiled.

            “You know…Ricky’s co-worker just came out as gay.”

            Louis rolled his eyes, but made sure he was smiling as he did so.

            “Tell him to take a number,” he said. “Liam already has someone he wants to fix me up with.”

            “Okay, but if he hits you…”

            “You’ll totally be the first one I tell.”

            “I feel like that was sarcasm.”

            Louis smiled, and Lottie slugged him in the shoulder. _That_ was the kind of relationship the two used to have, and Louis was glad it hadn’t changed. Her touch was quite a bit softer than it used to be, but that well could have been due to the fact that she was older and didn’t actually want to hurt her brother.

            “You’re a bitch,” she said.

            “I know,” he replied, flipping his imaginary long hair. It was Lottie’s turn to roll her eyes, but she didn’t have time to reply because Ricky called them down for breakfast.

            “I win!” Louis said, rising quickly and heading out of the room.

            “It wasn’t a competition!” Lottie protested as she followed behind him.

            Louis knew better than to think everything was suddenly fixed. It was going to take time, as all things did, for everyone to be back to ‘normal,’ whatever that was. For all he knew, Harry could retract what he said about Duke; claim that Louis threatened him and forced him to say it. He didn’t like having that little faith in Harry, but he’d trusted him-and everyone-for long enough.

It was time to listen to his therapist and take things day by day.

           

           

           

           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might not seem like it at the moment, but I promise everything is about to come to a head and changes will be made in Harry and Louis VERY soon...thank you for your patience in that as well XD


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for an update that didn't take a month! :D

***Harry***

            Harry didn’t know why Louis wasn’t angrier with him. Yes, he _said_ he was mad and that he hated him, but it hadn’t been genuine. Harry expected him to yell; call him names and let him know how terrible of a person he was to leave after telling Louis he loved him. Hell, that was even what Harry wanted. He wanted to feel the pain he’d left with Louis. Harry hoped it would lift some hurt from the other man, though he wanted to feel pain for selfish reasons as well.

            Since becoming clean, Harry rarely felt anything. True, he’d done drugs to numb his hurting, but at least on the illegal substances, he felt momentary happiness, hope, love and lust. On the ‘safer,’ legal medications he’d been prescribed, he no longer felt pain, but the ability to experience other emotions seemed to vanish as well.

            When he first heard that Louis was missing, worry briefly rose in him. That was followed by relief and fear when he found him; relief that he was alright and fear for how Louis was going to react to him. He was ready for anything, though. He could handle Louis giving him what he deserved and could only hope that he would accept his apology with time.

            Louis gave him attitude, showing that he was at least a little angry, but he didn’t lash out, and when Harry apologized, it sounded sarcastic even to his own ears. He couldn’t understand why. He _was_ sorry. The thought of what he’d done to Louis had tortured him since the night he left him. Harry ran off for Louis’s own good, but he knew the other wouldn’t see it that way. For whatever reason, Louis loved him. The look on his face when he told Harry was proof of that.

            Harry still remembered that moment; the way Louis had closed his eyes while he said it. When he finally opened them, Harry saw pain and fear in them, like Harry was going to use the words against him.

In retrospect, he supposed that was exactly what he’d done.

            Thinking over everything, Harry still couldn’t believe Louis had remained so calm around him, though since Harry had wanted a reaction, he supposed Louis’s nonchalance was what he deserved.

            Harry’s heart, which he sometimes felt must barely be beating, was racing while he was in the car with Louis. His palms were sweaty, and he found it hard to keep his eyes on the road. It was the closest feeling to ecstasy that he’d experienced since doing the drug almost a whole month ago. Strangely, the reminder didn’t make him crave the drug. He simply craved Louis.

            A bit of happiness even stirred in Harry’s heart when he arrived at Lottie’s and the woman pulled her brother into a hug. Louis may not always think so, but she loved him.

            At least Louis had someone better than Harry to tell him these things.

            Finally, Harry felt hurt again when Louis ran off to the bathroom without a backwards glance at Harry. It wasn’t near as much as he deserved, but at least it was something.

            “Where is Louis?!”

            Lottie sounded frantic when she hurried into the room to find that her brother wasn’t there.

            “In the loo,” Ricky told his fiancée calmly while giving her shoulder a small, assuring squeeze. It was weird for Harry to see genuine gestures like that from what appeared to be a genuinely happy couple.

            He cleared his throat.

            “I’m going to go,” Harry announced.

            “Okay. Thank you, Harry,” Lottie said, taking a few steps forward in order to give her former co-worker a hug. “By the way, how did you find him so quickly?”

            “I tracked his phone.”

            “Of course!”

            Lottie smacked herself lightly on the forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

            “Panic,” Harry answered.

            “I suppose.”

            Harry hesitated for a moment. There had been something on his mind ever since he was brought back home; the promise he’d made to Louis. Of course, Harry wasn’t a stranger to breaking promises. Louis probably wouldn’t think twice if Harry didn’t follow through, but he wanted to, and not just due to guilt. The damage he may have caused Louis was already done and he couldn’t fix it, but if he could make anything else easier on the man, he would do it.

            “Oh, and Lottie?” Harry finally said.

            “Yeah?”

            “Go easy on your brother. He wasn’t lying. Duke isn’t as innocent as everyone thinks he is. He’s not innocent _at all_.”

            Harry saw Lottie pale even as he turned away.

            “What?! Harry, you can’t just leave after saying something like that! What do you mean?! What did he do to Louis?!”

            “I have to go,” Harry told her. He wasn’t sure exactly what information Louis had given her and didn’t want to say too much. Besides, he was starting to feel something that he hadn’t missed; panic. Sweat breaking out along his hairline and he wouldn’t be completely surprised if he found out he was having a heart attack.

            “Everything he told you is true,” Harry said to Lottie, his breaths coming out in quiet gasps as he managed to open the front door and flee. He had no way of knowing, of course, if Louis had really told the truth about everything, but a liar was not something Harry knew him to be.

            Harry dropped his keys a few times before finally getting them into the ignition and starting his car. He knew he should take a couple minutes to get his breathing and shaking under control, but the last thing he wanted was for Lottie, Ricky or Louis to come out and demand he stay until he told everything, so he sped away, his tires squealing behind him.

            Thanks to his blaring music and the breathing exercises he knew all too well, Harry was numb by the time he reached Duke’s house. He wasn’t calling it his house again yet, and he hoped he never would. That place wasn’t home. Harry had never had a true home; one where he was safe, loved and wanted. Maybe he’d never deserve it.

            Duke was sitting on the front porch step, waiting for him. Harry wasn’t surprised, as he’d been ignoring his calls and texts. Typically, that would be a cause for punishment, but Duke didn’t hit him anymore; he _couldn’t_ , and Harry loved how much it killed the man on the inside.

            “Did you find him?” Duke asked as Harry sat as far away from him as possible while being on the same step.

            “Yep,” Harry said, lighting the cigarette he’d taken from his pocket before he sat down.

            “Why didn’t you bring him here?” the other asked next. “I told you we could keep him.”

            “He’s not a stray puppy, Duke,” Harry said. His monotone voice had returned. “Besides, he needs to be with people who love him.”

            “And you don’t?”

            “I do,” Harry said. For the first time since he’d sat, he spared a glance to his ex-boyfriend (who swore they were back together even though Harry had told him multiple times that they weren’t). The anger he saw on the man’s face over the fact that Harry had finally admitted his love for someone else out loud gave Harry a small, momentary spark of life.

            “I love him and that’s why I’m not bringing him around you; or myself for that matter.”

            “You’re an arse,” Duke said, rising to his feet and going inside. Harry knew it was probably so he wouldn’t give into the urge to burn him with his own cigarette. Smiling, Harry continued puffing on the ‘cancer sticks’ that Duke hated and wondered what Louis was doing right now.

***Louis***

            Louis felt like a whole new person after eating and showering. It was probably only temporary, he knew. It was just nice to have food in his system that didn’t come from an airport, and a bed to lay in after he’d washed the dirtiness of the previous day away.

            Surprisingly, his phone was quiet. He’d expected calls and messages from his mom, Niall and Zayn; ripping him a new one for scaring them. However, he received nothing for a while.

            A few minutes after he got out of the shower, Zayn sent him a text simply stating that he was glad he was okay and would see him soon. Later, Louis would reply and tell him that he hoped he was having fun with Liam, but he didn’t have the energy to carry on a conversation at the moment. He’d slept decently in his car, but he supposed the emotional turmoil of the past few days-no, the past few weeks-were catching up to him.

            After drifting off to sleep for a while, Louis woke with a text from his mom, asking him to call when he could. Louis replied, saying that he would ring her in just a little bit, and went to the kitchen to get something else to eat.

            Lottie and Ricky were in the living room, just about to start a movie, and invited Louis to join. He didn’t want to, but if he wished to continue repairing his relationship with his sister and keep everyone from worrying about him, he felt he had to.

            As he sat with his slice of cold pizza in one hand and his phone in the other, he sent his mother another message explaining what he was doing and assuring her that he would call afterward. Then, he went through all his recent calls and messages searching for Niall’s name.

            Harry had told Louis that Niall was angry, and rightfully so, seeing as how his best friend had lied to his face. Still, the silence from his mate was scaring Louis. When Niall was angry, he went off. If his hurt went deeper, he grew quiet.

            Once the film was nearing its end, Louis finally received the call he’d been waiting for.

            “Tell me what happens,” he said to his sister and her fiancé, though he had no idea what was going on anyway.

            “Hey, Niall,” he said as he answered the phone after hurrying to the next room.

            “Hey, you prick,” Niall said, though he didn’t sound completely angry, so Louis smiled.

            “I love you?”

            “Not going to work.”

            Louis gave a small laugh but was serious as he said,

            “I’m sorry. I was in a weird mood last night. Must have been the jet lag.”

            “That’s exactly when you shouldn’t be alone!” Niall exclaimed, sounding stressed.

            “I know. I’m okay, though.”

            “Where are you staying tonight?”

            “With Lottie.”

            Niall hesitated.

            “Is that a good situation?” he asked.

            “It’s cool,” Louis assured him. “Harry told her the truth about Duke, so she doesn’t hate me anymore.”

            “Harry did _what_?!”

            Louis had to momentarily move the phone away from his ear at his best friend’s screech.

            “Isn’t that a good thing?” Louis asked.

            “It’s a _great_ thing!” Niall told him. “That’s why I’m shocked. Harry usually causes chaos, not calms it.”

            “Oh, I’m sure things are just getting started,” Louis said, and then added, “be nice.”

            “Why? You hate him.”

            “I don’t hate him. I’m angry with him and there are definitely parts of him I’m not fond of, but _hate_ is a strong word.”

            “The truth comes out,” Niall sighed.

            “Hatred only causes harm to your own soul, Niall.”

            “Okay, Dr. Phil.”

            Louis laughed. It was more genuine that time.

            “I am sorry I scared you, though.”

            “Mate, if it were up to me, you would be arrested for inducing panic.”

            Louis smiled, though something weighed heavy on his heart as well. He’d gone off for less than twelve hours and almost had a search team out for him. Harry ran off and wasn’t heard from in months and no one but Louis batted an eyelash. In fact, they’d rolled their eyes, thinking it was just Harry being Harry and not mental illness slowly taking over and making him a shell of the person he truly was.

            Louis really needed to stop thinking about Harry.

            “I need a drink,” he said. Alcohol could make his thoughts of Harry deepen, but it could also potentially wash them away for a while.

            Zayn didn’t call alcohol ‘amnesia on ice’ for nothing.

            “Zayn and Liam will be back in a few days,” Niall said. “Maybe we can go out next weekend and you can meet Liam’s friend!”

            “Hopefully he’s tortured-looking,” Louis teased.

            “Um…he’s got high cheekbones and sometimes wears eyeliner?” Niall offered. Louis laughed.

            “Close enough,” he said.

            After hanging up with Niall, Louis called his mom back. Somehow, the time difference between the two had slipped his mind, and it was obvious that he’d woken her up, but she didn’t care. He did give her that as an excuse to why she was so emotional, however.

            Lastly, Louis called Zayn. He was glad when the man answered like nothing had happened.

            Zayn and Liam were at the pool of their hotel, Zayn had said, and Louis told him to go have fun, but Zayn insisted that he wasn’t swimming anyway; merely enjoying the view of Liam. Louis heard his friend tell his lover that he was going inside for a few, then remained quiet until the sound of Zayn closing a heavy door could be heard.

            “Okay. What’s up, mate?” he asked Louis, somewhat breathlessly. As if he could sense Louis’s confusion, he explained,

            “I walked up the stairs so we wouldn’t lose connection in the elevator.”

            “If we did, you could have just called me back,” Louis pointed out.

            “I wasn’t sure you would have answered,” Zayn said.

            Louis knew he hadn’t meant them to, but those words caused guilt to stir up inside of him.

            “I would have answered,” Louis told him. “Sorry I’ve been a shit friend lately.”

            “You haven’t been a shit friend,” Zayn told him. “You’ve been going through some things. It just sucks that I can’t help more.”

            “I think they’re things I have to work through on my own,” Louis admitted. “I know you’re here for me, and I appreciate that. I sort of disagree about the ‘shit friend’ thing, though. I didn’t even know you were going on vacation!”

            “Well, I didn’t tell you, so if you didn’t get on Facebook, there’s no way you would have known.”

            “Where are you, anyway?”

            When Zayn answered, he sounded reluctant.

            “Vegas.”

            For some reason, Louis found himself laughing.

            “Did you see the Eiffel Tower?” he asked.

            “Yeah.”

            “There wasn’t an unconscious drug addict lying underneath it, was there?”

            Zayn let out a laugh.

            “No. Unfortunately, I did not see that surely lovely addition.”

            Louis smiled, even though the thought of what could have happened to Harry made him anything but happy.

            Before he could think of something else to say, Zayn spoke again.

            “Speaking of mental illness, Liam knows…”

            Louis’s heart felt as if it stopped.

            “Liam knows…?”

            “About Isabelle and the rest of them. About everything.”

            “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “There was a small kitchen fire in our hotel last night. Everyone is fine, but, of course, the alarms went off and you know how I am around loud noises.”

            “To be fair, a sane person would lose their mind if faced with a fire alarm for too long,” Louis said when Zayn stopped speaking.

            “Yes, they are quite annoying, aren’t they?” Zayn replied, and then continued with his story.

            “We’d been drinking, which already lessens the effects of my medication, and the noise woke me up, which didn’t help either. I heard screaming and someone shouting that someone else was dying. Liam told me he didn’t hear anything, but I ran door to door trying to figure out where it was coming from. Of course, it was all only in my head, but I didn’t think so at the time. When I couldn’t find the source of the screaming, the voices went crazy, meaning I went a little crazy.”

            Zayn paused to laugh.

            “Liam thought I was having a stroke or some kind of weird seizure. If he wasn’t threatening to take me to hospital, I probably would have let him think that, but I knew doctors wouldn’t find anything wrong with me besides insanity, and I can’t go to the mental institution again. Most of the time, I’m fine.”

            Zayn spoke the last words as if he were trying to convince himself, so Louis said,

            “You’re doing great, Zayn. I’m proud of you.”

            “Thanks,” Zayn said, sounding embarrassed. “Anyway, I told him everything.”

            “Considering you’re still on vacation together, I’m guessing he handled it well?”

            “He took it like a saint,” Zayn said. “He said he was sad that I didn’t feel like I could tell him before, but that he loves me and he’s not going anywhere.”

            “I told you,” Louis said, but was smiling. He figured that was how Liam would react when he finally learned the truth-and if not, he wasn’t worthy of Zayn’s time-but if Liam _had_ decided that Zayn’s mental illness was something he couldn’t handle, it would have understandably broken the man’s heart. No doubt, it would have also given Isabelle fuel to tell him how worthless and unlovable he was.

\           “I know, but it was terrifying,” Zayn said.

            “I’m proud of you,” Louis said again.

            “You might be mad at me, too,” Zayn said.

            “I doubt it, but why do you say that?”

            “I told him _everything_ , including how we met, so now he knows about you as well.”

            “Ah, so he doesn’t want me to meet his mate then, I suppose.”

            “He still does,” Zayn said. “Why don’t me and Liam, you and Randy, and Niall and Nolan go on a triple date next weekend?”

            “Randy’s his name, then?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Alright, but you and Liam can’t be mad at me if it doesn’t work out.”

            “We won’t.”

\           Zayn cleared his throat and then said,

            “I’m really sorry about everything that happened with Harry, though. Niall and I talk shit on him, but he’s just got issues like me and you. I know you love him, and that’s never easy to let go.”

            “Thanks, Z,” Louis said, his throat suddenly burning. Teasingly, he added,

            “Maybe Randy will be my soul mate and I’ll all but forget Harry exists.”

            Zayn was completely serious when he replied,

            “I hope so.”

 

            Louis went to get dinner and drinks with Niall and Nolan the next night. They did a good job of not making him seem like a third wheel. In fact, Niall was more shut out than Louis while Louis and Nolan got to know each other as if they were on a first date. Louis knew Niall didn’t mind, and though Nolan kept proving himself more and more worthy of Niall, to the point where jealousy couldn’t even make Louis dislike him anymore, Louis still felt uncomfortable. He knew the reasons were all in his head and that he wasn’t annoying like he felt the other two thought, but it affected him all the same. He began to drink quicker, but the more he drank, the more he wished Harry were there, so instead, he started chain smoking cigarettes. It helped a little, but not enough and eventually, when Niall went to the bathroom and Nolan was stuck talking to some nice drunk lad, Louis took out his phone and typed a message to Harry, whose number he’d stolen from his sister.

_I hate you,_ he said, and felt guilty about it, but he wasn’t going to make it obvious that he was begging for Harry’s attention, and besides, he hadn’t seemed to care when he’d told him the same thing yesterday.

It took Harry a while to reply, and Louis felt less guilty and angrier instead with every minute, but eventually his phone vibrated in his hand.

_Did I do something again or did you simply want to reiterate that fact?_ he asked. Was there hurt behind that question? It could have seemed so, but Louis was probably thinking too much into things, like usual.

            Still, he didn’t have the heart to say-or text-the words again.

            _I’m drinking,_ he explained.

            _Alone…?_ Harry asked.

            _No. I’m not a fucking alcoholic._

_Glad to hear it. Sorry that it’s me you think of when you drink, though._

_Me too,_ Louis said.

            When Harry didn’t reply, Louis should have just let it go. If Harry wanted to talk to him, he would-and if he loved him, he wouldn’t have left-but Louis found that he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried (which, in reality, wasn’t that hard).

            _When do you want another tattoo?_ He asked Harry. It didn’t take Harry long to reply that time.

            _You want to give me a tattoo?_

_I need practice,_ Louis said.

            “Who ya talking to?” Niall asked, swiping Louis’s phone right from his hands.

            “Hey!” Louis protested. He hadn’t saved Harry’s number under his name. Rather, he identified him by the smiling purple devil emoji, but Niall narrowed his eyes.

            “Delete Harry’s number,” he ordered, sliding Louis’s phone back to him.

            “It’s not Harry,” Louis said, but was aware of the fact that Niall knew he was lying.

            “Nolan, please tell Louis he’s an idiot,” Niall requested.

            “Would you like a shot, Louis?” Nolan asked instead, causing Louis to laugh loudly.

            “Yes; I would, Nolan. Thank you.”

            Turning to Niall, Louis said, “I think I like your man more than I like you.”

            Louis was teasing, of course, but Niall retaliated with the hard hitting,

            “Yeah, well you love Harry, so your taste is obviously shit.”

            It was hard to tell whether Louis or Nolan was more offended, and Nolan lightly took Louis’s wrist. Louis grew nervous, knowing the scars he’d made there still weren’t, and probably never would be, completely healed, but Nolan didn’t flinch or say a word.

            “Come, Louis!” he said. “Fireball, Jager Bomb, or Blow Job?”

            “Ooh. How about you buy the Jaber Bombs and then I’ll get us some Blow Jobs for dessert?”

            When Louis sold his car for parts, he hadn’t been planning to spend the money on alcohol, but this was where his life was at the moment. At least he’d managed to pay his phone bill on time.

            “I like the way you think,” Nolan complimented.

            By the time the two left the bar, Louis and Nolan were both decently intoxicated.

            “If either of you throw up in my car, I’m leaving you on the side of the road,” Niall warned.

            “Aw, babe, I’m not that far gone,” Nolan assured his boyfriend while stroking his jawline. Niall gave him a ‘mushy’ look, as drunk Louis called it in his head, and then he ruined the moment by saying,

            “That’s okay. I’ll just have Harry pick me up if you do.”

            Niall glared into the backseat while Nolan roared with laughter (and then burped).

            Smiling to himself, Louis took out his phone, using the opportunity to check the message from Harry.

            _I’m your canvas. Just say when._

Louis’s grin grew. He could feel Niall glaring at him from the rearview mirror again, but he ignored it.

            He was biting his lip, trying to think of a good reply, when a Facebook notification distracted him. It was a friend request from someone named Randy Rosen. Louis frowned, trying to figure out why that name sounded familiar when he remembered that the guy Liam wanted him to meet was named Randy. Sure enough, when Louis went to his profile, they had two mutual friends; Zayn and Liam.

            Louis accepted the request and was allowing himself to creepily go through the man’s photos-he _was_ pretty cute with his longish, curly hair that was blonde, keeping Louis from comparing him too much to Harry-when he received a message from him.

            _Hey_ , the message read. _I hope this isn’t weird or anything. I’m Liam Payne’s friend, Randy. He and Zayn are planning on introducing us, but I’m not a fan of blind dates, so I decided to take the initiative myself._

_Hey,_ Louis typed back. _It’s not weird, don’t worry. I’m Louis, obviously. Liam’s a good guy._

_Yeah, he is,_ Randy agreed, and in the same message, asked, _So what are you up to tonight?_

_Just leaving the bar with a couple friends. I’ll probably just go home and crash._

_Oh, so come tomorrow, you’re going to be wondering who the weirdo you were messaging is._

_“I’m not that drunk, unfortunately,_ Louis said, and added the face with its tongue sticking out so Randy, hopefully, wouldn’t think he was an alcoholic like Harry apparently had.

            _What did you drink?_ Randy asked next.

            _A couple beers, a Sex on the Beach, a Rum and Coke, a Jaber Bomb and a Blow Job._

_Oh wow…,_ Randy replied. Then, before Louis could defend his honor by pointing out that it wasn’t that much alcohol, his new friend sent him another message.

            _Is a Blow Job a drink?_

Louis laughed out loud. Again, he could feel Niall’s disapproval, thinking it was Harry who had brought that reaction from him, and Louis wasn’t planning to tell him otherwise.

            _No_ , _I just ended the night getting a blow job and thought you should know,_ he replied, adding the smiley that was crying from laughter.

            _Hey, be nice,_ Randy said, though he’d added a smiley as well. _I grew up in a very religious family and just recently broke free._

_You should know beforehand that I’m a very sarcastic person,_ Louis said, but then explained,

            _Yes, among other things, a Blow Job is a very delicious shot. Tastes like chocolate and has whipped cream._

_That sounds amazing._

_It is,_ Louis said. _Better than some actual blow jobs I’ve received._

After sending it, Louis wondered if that joke was going too far too soon. Luckily, Randy replied with the crying-from-laughter face and said,

            _You’re funny. I think I’m gonna like you._

It was only after Louis laid down in his sister’s guest bed-the room was spinning just a little-that he remembered he never replied to Harry. Cursing to himself, Louis took his phone off the nightstand and sent him a text.

            _We’ll do it soon,_ he said lamely, and then fell asleep with his phone still in his hand.

            Upon waking, Louis had two Facebook messages from Randy-one replying to whatever it was Louis said last night and the other simply telling him goodnight when he’d figured he’d fallen asleep-but nothing from Harry.

            A feeling of guilt crept up inside Louis again, even though he knew he had no reason to feel guilty.

            _Hope you’re okay_ , he sent to the other man. If he didn’t reply, (which he didn’t), it was going to be the last time Louis reached out to him.

            He’d meant it at the time.

           

           

           


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Warning!!!!*** This chapter may be one of the more triggering ones.

***Louis***

            The next weekend, Louis went out with Niall, Nolan, Liam and Zayn to meet Randy. He spent the day with Zayn, as it had been a while since he’d seen him, and Louis wanted to hear all about Vegas. He only thought of his own trip with Harry occasionally. Mostly, he was focused on Zayn and how happy he looked. He’d always been happy with Liam, of course, but Louis thought something had recently changed. He guessed that he felt freer now that the truth was out and he’d been reassured his schizophrenia wasn’t going to scare Liam away.

            Liam picked the two up that night. Zayn ran ahead of Louis to get in the car and was in the middle of kissing Liam when Louis slid into the backseat. Out of the kindness of his own heart, Louis refrained from clearing his throat or making a snarky remark.

            “Did you bring your medicine?” Liam asked lovingly after he and Zayn finished kissing.

            “Yep. I’ve got it,” Zayn assured him.

            “Good,” Liam said, running his fingers through the back of his boyfriend’s hair before looking back at Louis.

            “Hey, Lou,” he greeted belatedly.

            “Hey,” Louis replied with a smile. It was a genuine one. He was happy for both of them. They deserved each other, and the change in Liam was as noticeable as the one in Zayn.

            The plan was to go to dinner and then bar hop, much like Louis had done with Niall and Nolan only a week ago, but that was fine. Liam wanted to assure that Louis and Randy would have plenty of opportunity to talk, unaware that they’d been messaging each other for the past week. They’d even spoken on the phone once.

            Randy was the first to arrive at the restaurant and he got a table for the group. Niall and Nolan had yet to show up.

            “Hey, mate,” Liam greeted Randy after being led to the table. Randy had already seen them approaching, though Louis didn’t think Liam or Zayn saw the smile he’d given him, or the grin Louis was unable to resist giving back.

            Unnecessarily, Liam added,

            “This is Louis.”

            “Hey,” Randy said, smiling yet again as Louis sat in the chair across from him.

            “Hey,” Louis returned. “So…it’s Blow Job night, right?”

            Politely, Randy had made sure everyone would have waters when they arrived, and, unaware that Louis was referencing the shot, Liam choked on his drink. Zayn, mean while, was struggling to get his laughter under control, though he did manage to mouth ‘what the fuck’ when Louis made eye contact with him.

            Fortunately for Louis, Randy remembered the conversation they’d had the first night they talked, and he said,

            “I sure hope so! I’ve been looking forward to it all week!”

            “Wow. Okay then,” Liam said, not appearing pleased with how the conversation was going.

            “What?” Louis asked innocently. “He didn’t break out of a religious cult for nothing.”

            “I did it for Blow Jobs,” Randy agreed.

            With a dumb-founded expression on his face, Liam looked back and forth between Louis and his friend.

            “Do…Do you two know each other?” he asked.

            “Never seen him in my life,” Louis said.

            “What’s his name again?” Randy asked, pointing to Louis. Their charade fell flat when they smiled across the table at each other.

            “What’s going on?!” Liam asked.

            Through laughter, Randy explained that the two had already been talking for about a week.

            “And we were going to get Blow Job shots tonight,” Louis added. “Can you believe Randy’s never had one?”

            “Of either kind,” Randy added.

            “You two don’t even need us, then,” Liam said. “Why don’t we just leave you to it?”

            “You’re staying, Payne,” Randy said, grabbing Liam’s arm as he made like he was going to get up.

            “You and Zayn had enough alone time in Vegas,” Louis told him. “Stay and be sociable.”

            “Okay,” Liam agreed. “Just stop discussing blow jobs at the table, yeah?”

            During dinner, Louis was grateful that Randy had added him. It kept everything light, like most first dates weren’t. Louis still tensed up when Randy touched his hand, which he did quite often, but it had nothing to do with how much Louis did or didn’t like the guy. That was simply Louis’s own issues with intimacy rising up. Perhaps when he found a job, he would go back to therapy to continue working through that.

            While in Vegas, Liam had discovered a trick into getting Zayn to eat a decent amount at restaurants; sharing a plate. Zayn felt as if the world wanted to poison and get rid of _him_ , but he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to do that to Liam, so as long as Liam ordered the meal, Zayn was okay sharing food with him. Louis’s heart swelled dangerously when he learned of it.

            “I know we said we were going to bar hop tonight, but I have another idea,” Niall spoke, an ornery glint in his eyes, after the meals had been eaten and they were all waiting on their checks to be returned. Randy had paid for Louis’s, and Louis hoped he could get away with repaying him only with a couple Blow Job shots and not the actual deed; not yet.

            “That look in your eyes is scaring me,” Nolan told his boyfriend. Niall laughed, borderline evilly.

            “Randy grew up in a religious household, as did Nolan,” Niall said “That’s fine, of course, but I feel as if, because of it, the two are missing out on a great experience.”

            When everyone was silent, Niall beamed. His excitement was radiating off him.

            “Let’s go to a strip club!” Niall exclaimed.

            “Oh, God,” Nolan spoke aloud. “How didn’t I see that coming?”

            “Please?! It will be fun!”

            “It’s up to the rest of them,” Nolan said. Niall looked around the table, hopeful, and, reluctantly, everyone agreed.

            Louis wasn’t a huge fan of strip clubs himself. He didn’t have anything against people who went or worked there, but the places exuded too much sex for him, personally.

            Nolan and Randy, however, were thrown into a culture shock.

            The club they went to was huge and had at least two guys of every type. When Louis went to the bar to order Blow Jobs, the employee honestly didn’t know if he was asking for the drink or the act.

            “Lads, I do believe we are in a prostitution ring,” Louis announced once he returned to the table with his and Randy’s shots.

            “That’s okay. We’re leaving anyway,” Niall said, standing up and motioning for the others to do the same. No one followed suit. They simply looked back and forth between Niall and Louis; Liam and Zayn appearing nervous and Nolan and Randy, confused.

            “It’s not a big deal, Niall,” Louis told his friend as he slid his date’s shot to him. “As long as you don’t partake in the prostitution adventures, you’re fine.”

            “That’s not the problem,” Niall said. Louis furrowed his brows and then looked to Zayn, who had cleared his throat. Once he had Louis’s attention, he nodded subtly to a table a few feet away, where a stripper was sliding drinks to a few patrons, his hip jutted out to the side and most of his ass out for all the world to see.

            Louis had never seen quite that much of Harry from behind, but he still knew who it was, even if he hadn’t had the tattoo. His heart rate sped up and a knot formed in his stomach, but he forced out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

            “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised to see him here, eh?” Louis asked.

            “I’m not surprised,” Niall said, “but we’re leaving. Come on, lads.”

            “We’re not leaving,” Louis said, taking his seat next to Randy, who quietly asked.

            “What’s going on?”

            “My ex’s boyfriend apparently works here,” Louis explained. “Let’s just say Niall isn’t his biggest fan.”

            “He’s at work,” Liam reasoned with Niall. “It’s not like he’s going to be hanging out with us.”

            “Maybe,” Zayn added, his eyes focused on something in the distance. Following his gaze, the group saw Harry sauntering towards them, a curious expression on his face. He was still arguably too skinny to be healthy, Louis noted, but he’d gained some weight even in the past week-and-a-half, and Louis was proud of him. Of course, he didn’t voice those thoughts out loud.

            “Hey,” Harry greeted upon reaching the table. Louis almost laughed when it was Niall he chose to stand next to, but he sobered quickly when he realized that Harry’s eyes were burning into him.

            “Hey,” everyone besides Niall returned politely.

            “Do you guys come here often?” Harry asked. He made it a point to look around at the entire group, but his eyes always came back to focus on Louis.

            After everyone told him that, no, it was their first time there, Harry nodded.

            “I just started last week,” he explained.

            “Is this a good place for you to work?” Louis couldn’t help but to ask. There was clearly illegal activity going on all around them, and Louis knew Harry likely had easy access to drugs as well.

            “Probably not,” Harry admitted, putting one hand on his hip. “But it was either that or get married.”

            “I think you chose the right option, then,” Louis said, not asking why those were his only two options. The corners of Harry’s mouth quirked up; not into a full smile but to show that he was amused, nonetheless.

            “Do you need any drinks?” Harry asked the group, and Louis thought Niall was going to kill Liam when he ordered a round of shots for the group.

He seemed even more likely to kill him when Harry brought their drinks and Liam tipped him.

            “What?” Liam asked, picking up on Niall’s disapproval. “I’m a waiter. We can’t just not tip each other.”

            “He’s not a waiter. He’s a stripper-slash-prostitute. And he’s Harry.”

            “Yeah, and if we want him to have a chance at bettering himself, we can tip him a couple of dollars,” Liam said.

            Clearly nervous from all the tension, Zayn took his shot. Liam rubbed his back while Louis said,

            “Let’s just stop arguing, yeah? Niall, you wanted to come here so badly. Let loose and have fun.”

            Niall sighed, but held up his drink.

            “Fine,” he said. “On the count of three…”

            Since Zayn had already taken his, Louis gave him his Blow Job, which he had yet to touch. When Harry returned to take their glasses and see if they needed anything else, Louis ordered himself another.

            He’d been ordering Blow Jobs for years and hadn’t found it funny or cool since he was a teenager, but, for some reason, asking Harry for a Blow Job turned his face red and put an idiotic smile on his face. Harry returned the smile and Niall rolled his eyes, then ordered another drink for himself.

            “I like your tattoo,” Randy said to Harry as the man turned to go get their second order.

            “The butterfly?” Harry asked, looking back at the man he didn’t know.

            “Yeah.”

            “Thanks. Louis did it for me.”

            Randy’s mouth dropped open as he looked to Louis in amazement. Louis thought he was likely already feeling a buzz, but it was understandable, as he was clearly pretty new to drinking.

            “You did that?!” he asked.

            “I told you I used to be a tattoo artist,” Louis reminded the man.

            “You need to come back,” Zayn spoke.

            “I’ve thought about it,” Louis admitted.

            “You’re hired,” Zayn said.

            The group didn’t stay at the club long, though it had nothing to do with Harry. He’d disappeared after bringing Louis and Niall their order. Rather, the strip-club-prostitution-ring turned out to be more than any of the men bargained for, and they walked to the bar down the street instead.

            “I want another Blow Job,” Randy commented, taking Louis’s hand in his own. It startled Louis, but he forced a smile and relaxed his muscles.

            “They’re delicious, aren’t they?” he replied.

            “Very,” Randy agreed. “That’s all I want to drink for the rest of the night!”

            “No,” Louis disagreed. “You don’t want to do that because if you get sick on it, you’ll never want it again.”

            “That happened to Liam with tequila shots!” Randy exclaimed. “Remember, Liam, when you took me to that party and you kept losing at Never Have I Ever and you, like, puked up a whole lime and your vomit was green?”

            “Yes, I remember,” Liam said, looking like he wanted to gag at the thought.

            “Wasn’t that just a couple months ago?” Zayn asked.

            “…Yeah…,” Liam admitted hesitantly.

            “I didn’t know you got sick,” Zayn said accusingly.

            “It was only once at the party and then three times after Randy dropped you off and was taking me home,” Liam explained. “I was already embarrassed enough about everything you learned about me during the game. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle my tequila.”

            “You _couldn’t_ handle your tequila,” Randy pointed out.

            “No more secrets, yeah?” Zayn asked, putting his arm around his boyfriend’s waist even while they were walking. “From either of us.”

            Liam smiled, swore on it and kissed Zayn.

            The group spent a little over an hour at the bar before they realized that Randy was getting a little too intoxicated and called it a night. Ever the good friend, Liam, who had stopped after one drink at the bar, decided that he was going to be spending the night with him.

            “Thanks for everything! I had fun!” Randy exclaimed as Louis set to get out of the car once arriving at his sister’s house.

            “Yeah. I did t-” Louis started to say, but was interrupted when Randy crashed his lips against his. Louis made a small sound of surprise, but didn’t even have time to contemplate whether he wanted to kiss him back or not before Randy pulled away, a huge smile breaking across his face.

            “See you soon?” he asked.

            “Yeah,” Louis replied, making sure to at least give the other a half-smile, and then he opened the door, said good night to Zayn and Liam, and hurried into the house.

            He was barely in the bedroom when he received a text. Relief coursed through him when he saw that it was from Zayn.

            _Sorry about that,_ he said to his friend. _Liam told him he was moving too fast._

_It’s cool,_ Louis replied, adding a smiley in the hopes that it would make his words more believable.

            _What did you think of him though?_ Zayn asked. _Do you want to see him again?_

Louis was unsure what the true answer to that question would be, so to make matters less awkward, he simply told him yes.

            It wasn’t that Louis didn’t like Randy. He was nice and fun to be around, but the more they hung out with each other, the more obvious it was becoming to Louis that it wasn’t going to work out.

            Louis understood why Randy wanted to move a lot more quickly than he did. He talked frequently about ‘all the time he’d wasted’ trying to be the man his religious family had wanted him to be. Now, he felt as if he had a lot of making up to do. He was embarrassed, Louis learned, about the fact that he was a twenty-four-year-old virgin, and while Louis told him that there was nothing wrong with that, it seemed to be something that the other man desperately wanted to change.

            _Hey, I got off work early. Do you want to come over?_

Louis sighed while reading the text, and he ran a hand across his aching forehead.

            _I don’t think I should_ , Louis replied. _I’m not feeling great._

He’d used that excuse often to get out of seeing Randy. Louis felt bad and knew he should just call things off, but that was something he already knew he wasn’t great at doing.

            Besides, this time, his excuse was true.

            _Again?_ Randy asked with a frowning emoji.

            _Yeah. Sorry._

_What’s wrong?_

_My head hurts, my throat hurts, and I’m pretty sure I’m starting to get a fever._

_Oh no =[ Well, why don’t you come over anyway and I’ll take care of you! We can eat soup and watch movies._

_I don’t want to get you sick._

_I have a strong immune system. I’m not worried. I just don’t like that you don’t feel good, sweetie._

Louis didn’t need this guilt on top of everything else. Randy really was a sweet guy, and nurturing.

            Why couldn’t Louis ever fall for the ones that would be good for him?

            _Are you sure?_ Louis asked, still not wanting to go over, but needing the guilty feeling to go away. Besides, maybe there was still hope for him and Randy. Love didn’t always happen at first sight, like it had with Harry.

            _Positive!_ Randy had replied.

            _I’m just in joggers and a t-shirt, and my hair’s a mess,_ Louis warned.

            _That’s okay! You’ll still be cute!_

_I’m not so sure about that, but I’ll be there in a few._

Randy’s apartment wasn’t great, nor was the town it was in, but he still had his own place to live, which was more than Louis had ever been able to say for himself.

            Louis was shivering when he reached the other man’s place, despite the fact that it was a warm evening, and he threw on the hoodie he’d brought along with him before knocking on the door.

            “Hey, sweetie!” Randy greeted after opening the door. He kissed Louis on the cheek and said, “Oh, you are a little warm. Come on in.”

            Louis did. Instantly, he smelled chicken noodle soup.

            “I don’t know if you’re hungry, but I made you something just in case.”

            “I am a little hungry,” Louis admitted. “Soup sounds perfect. All my sister had was stuff loaded with carbs, and I was too lazy to go to the store.”

            “You should have made her go for you,” Randy said, turning off the stove and getting a bowl down from one of his cupboards.

            “I’m already staying in her flat for free,” Louis pointed out.

            “Well, eat all you want. I already ate something on my way home, but do you mind if I have a drink?”

            “No, go for it,” Louis told him.

            “You’re welcome to have something too, if you’d like.”

            “I’ll just have water, thanks.”

            Louis took his soup and Randy took his home-mixed Rum and Coke to the living area so they could start a movie. Once Louis had finished eating, however, Randy insisted they go to the bedroom where Louis could be more comfortable.

            The bedroom wasn’t more comfortable for Louis at all. In fact, it was highly uncomfortable, but, of course, he didn’t say so.

            Throughout the movie, Louis could feel his fever rising. By the end, Randy had consumed a good few drinks, so Louis didn’t think he should have a problem with him leaving.  

            “That was a good film,” he said as the credits started to roll.

            “It was,” Randy agreed. “Are you still hungry or thirsty or anything?”

            “No. Actually, I think I better go. I’m exhausted and if I want to make it home without falling asleep in my cab, I should leave now.”

            “You can stay,” Randy offered.

            “Oh, um…thank you, but I’m a really restless sleeper when I’m sick, so-”

            “Stay,” Randy insisted, putting his arm around Louis’s waist and pulling him back from the edge of the bed.

            Louis’s heartbeat was racing, and he knew it wasn’t only from the stress of fighting his infection.

            He didn’t say a single word as Randy cuddled against him; didn’t think he could.

            Eventually, once Randy dozed off, Louis relaxed just enough to allow himself a light slumber. He knew it was only due to the fever because his mind was still telling him to run, but his body simply wouldn’t allow it.

            Louis didn’t know how long he’d been in his sleep-like phase; it felt like only a few minutes, but when he opened his eyes again, there was no light pouring in from the small window by the bed. He was sweating profusely, and dizzy. No doubt, he had a fairly high temperature now. Louis moaned, turning his head as if that would alleviate some of the pressure from it, and then Randy asked,

            “You like that, yeah?”

            Louis was confused until he realized that the man had his hand under the covers and was lightly palming him through his boxers.

            When exactly had Louis’s pants come off?

            Gasping, Louis sat up and pushed Randy’s hand off him. The room spun around him.

            “Aw, come on, sweetie. You liked that. I could tell.”

            “What the fuck?!” Louis asked, his voice hoarse, even for just waking up.

            “I saw you getting all hot and bothered,” Randy said, a smirk across his face.

            “I’m sick!” Louis said exasperatedly.

            “Uh-huh,” Randy said, disbelieving despite the fact that he’d agreed he felt warm earlier. “Come on, baby. Why are you playing so hard to get with me?”

            “Why are you so incessant on doing something that I don’t want to do yet?”

            “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Randy said. “It’s not like _you’re_ a virgin.”

            Deciding that he didn’t have the strength to try and talk things through with Randy, Louis simply shook his head and went to stand, but Randy pulled him back down and straddled him so that he couldn’t easily get up. He fought, scratching and being scratched, but as he was already weakened from his illness, it was almost a hopeless fight when Randy pinned Louis’s arms against the headboard. Eventually, Louis managed to wriggle free.

            He only realized he was crying as he fell out of bed onto to the floor.

            “Seriously, what is your problem?!” Randy asked, but, gasping for air, feeling as if he was suffocating, Louis ran from the room after quickly grabbing his phone from the nightstand beside him. His pants were a lost cause, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care all that much.

***Harry***

            As Harry went backstage after his shift, ready to grab his pack of cigarettes and smoke them all, he heard his phone ringing. Instantly, he was alarmed. No one ever tried to contact him unless it was an emergency besides Duke, and Duke knew he was at work.

            The moment he saw that the call was from Lottie, his stomach twisted in knots, knowing it had to be something with Louis for her to ring him at three thirty in the morning.

            “Hello?” he answered, his voice shaking. Before she even spoke, Harry could tell that she was crying.

            “Please tell me that Louis is with you.”

            “No,” Harry replied. “What happened?”

            “We can’t find him again!” the woman exclaimed frantically. She was a bit hard to understand through her tears. “He went to hang out with some guy that he’s been seeing, and he always tells me when he’s staying out late or if he’s sleeping somewhere else, but I hadn’t heard anything from him by one in the morning. He’s not answering any calls or texts, and when Liam got ahold of his boyfriend or whatever, he said they had an argument because Louis wouldn’t have sex. When Liam went over, he…he found Louis’s joggers there and said there was bl-…There was some blood on the sheets.”

            Lottie wailed and Harry grew cold.

            “Oh my god, what if he fucking killed my big brother?! Why does he keep getting involved with these psychopaths?!”

            “Have you tracked his phone?” Harry asked, trying to remain level-headed when he was one step away from a meltdown.

            “Yes,” Lottie said, and let out a deep cry. “Or we tried, but tracking’s been turned off.”

            “The police should be able to still track it, but I’ll try to call him.”

            “Please do,” Lottie said. “I think he’ll answer for you if…if he’s able.”

            Harry wasn’t sure why the woman thought that, but he assured her he would give it a try anyway.

            He rang Louis as he walked outside, not bothering to change out of his tight little outfit. The phone rang and rang, Harry’s hands growing clammier every time, but, finally, at the last possible second, Harry heard Louis’s thick; hoarse voice answer. Harry could have pissed himself from relief.

            “Hey, Harry,” Louis said, sniffling quietly.

            “Louis,” Harry breathed. “Where are you?! Are you alright?!”

            As Louis replied, Harry put him on speaker phone so that he could text Lottie and tell her he had her brother on the phone.

            “Why does this keep happening to me, Harry?” Louis asked, sounding defeated.

            “I don’t know,” Harry replied, taking the phone off speaker and holding it back up to his ear. “You don’t deserve any of it and I’m sorry, Lou. But…where are you?”

            “I’m done,” Louis said. “I can’t do this anymore. You understand.”

            “Louis, no!” Harry said, his heart racing so fast that he was dizzy. “Where are you at, Louis?!”

            “Don’t worry about it. It won’t matter. I don’t matter.”

            “Yes, you do, Lou! Do not do whatever you’re thinking of doing!”

            “I’m tired, Haz.”

            It felt like a knife was twisting through Harry’s heart at the use of his old nickname.

            “I know you are, Lou-Lou, but just wait a little longer, okay? It can get better.”

            “When?”

            “When you let me come get you. We’ll figure something out.”

            “No, we won’t.”

            “Louis, damn it, please!” Harry begged. “I know this is selfish, but don’t do this. I need you!”

            “No, you don’t.”

            “Yeah I do!”

            “You have Duke.”

            “We’re not together. I’m just staying with him because I have no where else, but I have money saved up and…Hey, why don’t you and I get a place together? That would be fun, yeah?”

            “No. I don’t want to see you bringing home random guys all the time.”

            “I wouldn’t. I love you, Lou. I know I have a shit way of showing it, but I do.”

            “You’re only saying that to get me to stay.”

            “No, I’m not, but _please_ Louis; please stay.”

            There was a long stretch of silence and for a few terrifying seconds, Harry thought Louis had already done something, but then he said,

            “Vincent Thomas Bridge. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

            With that, Louis disconnected the call. Harry didn’t waste time and raced to the car. He wasn’t far from the bridge, but he didn’t know how far down it Louis was. Besides, he couldn’t be sure that Louis wouldn’t change his mind and jump sooner.

            If he was too late, they were going to have two bodies to find in the water.

            Remaining calm on the phone with Lottie while speeding down the road was the hardest thing Harry had ever done, but he knew if he told her more than ‘Louis’s just shaken up and I’m going to go get him,’ then she would race to where he was as well, and that could send Louis over the edge-literally. It would be the same with the police, probably. Louis’s fate was in Harry’s hands, it seemed, and Harry had never been so scared, yet so determined, in his entire life.

            He was about to be sick with worry as he drove down the bridge and didn’t immediately see Louis, but, finally, Harry spotted him standing on the ledge a few feet away.

            Harry stopped right in the middle of the bridge, his tires squealing from the abruptness of it, and he jumped out of his car, choosing to run instead.

            “Lou!” he called. Louis turned his head to look over his shoulder, but he didn’t step down. Luckily, he didn’t step over, either. “Lou, I’m here! Don’t do it!”

            Harry gasped in relief when he managed to grab onto Louis’s sweatshirt, and he pulled him down from the ledge and into his arms, spinning around with him so that neither could see the water Louis had nearly delved into.

            “Hi, Harry,” Louis said, his voice cracking and his arms around the other’s neck.

            “Shit. Holy fuck. Oh my god,” Harry cursed randomly, and, not having the energy to stand anymore, he sunk down to the pavement, but cradled Louis in a way that he wasn’t touching the ground.

            “Louis, oh my god. I thought you were gone!” Harry said, the tears that had been threatening for so long starting to fall as he buried Louis’s face into his chest and cradled the back of his head, gently gripping and letting go of his sweaty hair. Louis hiccupped, and Harry could feel the other’s tears on his chest.

            “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Harry said. “All of it. Every damn thing.”

            Louis didn’t reply, simply shivered. Harry told him,

            “You’re burning up.”

            “‘M sick,” Louis said.

            “Are you on anything?”

            “No. I’m just sick.”

            Harry took a few deep breaths and then stood, still holding Louis.

            “We need to get you home or somewhere,” he said. A few remaining tears were still falling from both men’s eyes, but Harry thought he was holding himself together exceptionally well, given the circumstances.

            “I don’t want to go to my sister’s,” Louis said.

            “Where do you want to go?” Harry asked.

            “The water.”

            “No.”

            Sighing, Harry said,

            “I would take you to a hotel, but you need medicine.”

            “Wanna go with you,” Louis said.

            “Even if it’s to _his_ house?”

            “Wanna go with you,” Louis repeated.

            “Okay,” Harry said. “Then you’ll come with me.”

            Louis’s shivers had grown violent by the time they reached the car and Harry wished he had a blanket, but since he didn’t, he cranked the heat up, not caring that he was sweating by the time they reached the house.

            Louis insisted he could walk, but Harry kept a hand on the small of his back, supporting him just to be safe.

            When the pair entered and Louis saw Duke sitting at the kitchen island, waiting, he jumped.

            “Don’t you fucking touch me,” he warned.

            “He’s not going to touch you,” Harry promised, glaring at Duke. He hated the smug look that the man was wearing on his face.

            “What’s going on here?” he asked, literally licking his lips as he looked at Louis. It disgusted Harry; that Duke could look so hungry when Louis was in a clearly vulnerable position.

            “None of your business,” Harry said.

            “You brought him to my house,” Duke told him, “so it is my business.”

            “We’ll go to a hotel,” Harry said. “We just need a thermometer, medicine, and clothes.”

            Without another word, Harry led Louis upstairs to the guest bedroom. Louis whined as he laid down.

            “I just want to sleep,” he said.

            “Soon,” Harry promised.

            Harry messaged Lottie, explaining that he had Louis and that he would keep him safe, and then he took the man’s temperature. He was startled to find that it was over 103, but Louis said he was fine, though he didn’t want to leave to get a hotel room; he just wanted to sleep. Giving in, Harry locked the bedroom door after retrieving Aspirin, a cup of water, and some night clothes for them both.

            After changing, Harry laid in the bed next to Louis, who clung to him.

            “Shit,” Harry breathed as the vision of Louis standing on the edge of the bridge kept playing over in his mind.

            “I wasn’t going to do it,” Louis said as if he knew what Harry was thinking.

            “The fact that the thought even crossed your mind breaks my heart, Lou,” Harry said, not mentioning that it very much looked as if Louis were intending to jump.

            “You broke mine,” Louis said, and Harry momentarily squeezed his eyes shut. Another tear escaped. “Over and over and over…”

            “I’m so sorry,” Harry said, not bothering to try and defend himself.

            “If you want a fairytale ending, you can’t be the damsel, the hero and the villain,” Louis told him. “You’ve got to choose.”

            “Fairytales aren’t real, Lou, as much as I want them to be.”

            Louis didn’t say anything for a while. Harry thought he’d drifted off and closed his own eyes, running his fingernails softly up and down Louis’s hot arm. He’d nearly forgotten what they’d been talking about when Louis said,

            “Maybe not if you’re the villain.”


	18. Chapter 18

***Harry***

            Harry was surprised he got any sleep that night. His insomnia had improved somewhat since quitting drugs, but there were still nights he got no sleep. At most, he was able to catch four hours, but he was so shaken over what Louis had almost done that he didn’t think he would ever be able to relax his mind.

            Besides being scared, he was angry; livid, actually. Harry knew he’d hurt Louis, but to physically attack him, as he assumed happened, given that Louis was pant less and Liam had seen blood, was another thing completely.

            Somehow, even with Harry’s racing heart and mind, he fell asleep after only a little while. He woke a few times during the night, but once he saw that Louis was still beside him, he fell back to sleep.

            When Harry woke for the final time, the house was quiet, but there was light pouring through the window, suggesting that Duke was at work. Still, Harry wasn’t going to take the chance that his ex wasn’t being eerily quiet and leave the room, putting Louis open for attack.

            Studying the other’s face, Harry saw that he looked better than he had the previous night; less pale and far less sweaty. He still felt a bit warm, he noticed when he lightly laid the back of his hand across Louis’s forehead, but he wasn’t burning up as if he’d taken too much Ecstasy anymore.

            Louis woke not too much later than Harry. He frowned as he blinked open his eyes, confused, but smiled sleepily after making eye contact with Harry.

            “Good morning,” Harry greeted.

            “’Morning,” Louis returned, his voice still hoarse.

            “How do you feel?” Harry asked.

            “Still shitty, but not quite as bad as yesterday.”

            “That’s something, at least,” Harry said, but wasn’t sure Louis heard him, as his phone had started to ring. Louis jumped, then rolled over and propped himself onto one arm as he answered. Harry, of course, could only hear one side of the conversation.

            “Hello?...Hey, Liam…It’s okay…I know you didn’t know…I know you wouldn’t…I’m fine, really…No, it didn’t get that far…Liam, stop apologizing. It’s not your fault…Everything’s really cool, mate.”

            Louis’s phone made a sound and after pulling it away from his ear to check it, he said,

            “Hey, Li, I’ve got to go. My phone’s dying.”

            After a moment, he added,

            “I’m not mad at you. There’s nothing to be mad at you about. My phone really is dying, and I don’t have a charger with me. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine. I promise.”

            It took another minute, but eventually, Liam let Louis go. After hanging up, Louis threw his phone onto the bed and offered a small smile to Harry. Only Louis would be able to muster a smile the morning after he nearly threw himself from a bridge.

            “That was Zayn’s boyfriend, right?” Harry asked. “Not yours?”

            “I don’t have a boyfriend, and yes; it was Zayn’s. He introduced me to Randy and now apparently feels guilty about how it ended.”

            “I really am sorry that you keep falling for the worst kind of men,” Harry told the other. He hoped he knew he was including himself.

            “I was being dramatic last night,” Louis claimed. “He didn’t even really get anywhere with me.”

            “Doesn’t matter. He still tried,” Harry said, and then added, “And you weren’t being dramatic. You were hurting.”

            Reaching over to lightly touch Louis’s hand, he asked,

            “How often do you have those thoughts?”

            “They’re fleeting,” Louis said, which wasn’t a direct answer, but he didn’t give Harry a chance to point that out.

            “Sorry I made you come get me last night.”

            “Why would you apologize for that? Thank you for not jumping.”

            “It was the fever talking.”

            Harry hummed, not about to outright tell Louis that he didn’t believe him. Then, he sat up and leaned over to place a kiss on his love’s forehead. He expected him to move out of the way or push Harry back, but he didn’t. Harry saw his eyes close as he neared him, and when he pulled away, there was a light smile on his face.

            _You poor, tragic soul._

            “You’re still a bit warm,” he told the other. “I think we’re going to the doctor today.”

            “ _We_ are?” Louis asked.

            “Yeah, and then, afterward, we can look around at apartments if you feel like it.”

            A bigger smile took place on Louis’s face.

            “I didn’t think you were serious,” he said.

            “I was,” Harry told him. Now that he’d seen Louis almost kill himself twice, the thought of ever letting him out of his sight again was terrifying.

            “You really have been saving up money to move, then?” Louis asked, looking hopeful.

            “Well, I was saving money to start my own business, but moving was the end goal.”

            Harry had been planning to move by himself, knowing he needed to learn how to be alone, but moving in with Louis sounded much better.

            “You want to start a business?!” Louis asked. He looked surprised, though not unsupportive.

            “Well, kind of,” Harry said. “I think that maybe I want to be a self-employed event coordinator.”

            “You would be really good at that!” Louis said, appearing much more excited than Harry thought he should at what could prove to be a silly dream.

            “Maybe,” he said in return. “Anyway, I really should probably move first. This isn’t the best living condition.”

            “Is he hitting you again?”

            “No. Not yet, but I’m not happy here. I’m not sure I’ll be happy anywhere, but I guess I might as well keep looking.”

            “I hope you feel happiness someday, Haz.”

            “You too, Lou.”

            “I’m okay.”

            “Louis, you nearly jumped off a bridge last night.”

            “I wasn’t actually going to do it,” Louis said again, and changed the subject.

            “I’m hungry. Got any food?”

            With a small laugh, Harry said,

            “I’m sure we do. Let’s get you something to eat so we can go to the doctor.”

            “I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

            “Well, you need to.”

            “I can’t _afford_ a doctor.”

            “Well, I can.”

            Louis shook his head as he slowly stood from the bed and stretched his arms out in front of him.

            “I’m sure it’s just something I have to sweat out. Besides, if I was dying, would I want to eat?”

            “I don’t know. I’m not a professional,” Harry said.

            “I wouldn’t,” Louis answered his own question. “Come, Hazza.”

            Louis started to walk to the door but paused.

            “Is Duke here?”

            “Doesn’t sound like it,” Harry said, “but I can’t promise anything.”

            Louis nodded, looking nervous for only a moment before confidence took over. Still, Harry assured him,

            “I’ll kick his arse if he tries to touch you.”

            Louis actually managed to laugh.

            “Let’s hope no one has to hit anyone.”

            Harry wouldn’t say so, but sometimes he wished Duke would mess his face up just one more time, while he was under the careful observation of authorities so that they would intervene and make one of them leave, because as much as Harry wanted and needed to get away, he didn’t fully trust himself to follow through when it came time. Being around someone who abused him was better than being alone, at least in his messed-up mind.

            But he was going to leave, and he wasn’t going to be alone, he reminded himself. He was going to be with Louis, and he would follow through for the other man if nothing else. Louis didn’t need Harry, but he didn’t seem to know that yet, and Harry’s intentions weren’t selfish this time. As an addict, he knew just how powerful the mind could be when convincing someone that they needed something, and Harry was not going to be the one to cut Louis off and send him jumping from a bridge.

***Louis***

            Louis didn’t know if he would have jumped or not. There had only been a three-minute period after reaching the bridge in which he’d seriously planned on going over. Most of his willpower had been drained from him during the long walk.

            Needing to feel something besides the pain that was tearing at his chest, Louis had stood on the ledge. In retrospect, it was a bit alarming that he’d felt a rush of relief and power instead of fear while looking down at the water below.

            The height of the bridge mixed with Louis’s fever caused the world to spin when he tried to get down, and for a moment, he’d thought he was falling. His life flashed before his eyes and he was glad to see that it wasn’t all bad. He’d had moments of happiness; had experienced true love, even if not from a lover. He was unsure, though, if those moments were worth the long stretches of misery in between.

            Louis decided to keep standing there and let fate work things out. If he fell, he fell.

            Then, as it always seemed to do at any life-changing moment, fate sent him Harry. When Louis was in his arms, he was happy he was alive.

            It was confirmed that Duke wasn’t home when Louis and Harry reached the kitchen, giving Louis another moment of pure joy.

            Harry pulled a barstool out from their kitchen island and told Louis to sit; he would get him some food and something to drink.

            “Do you eat?” Louis asked after Harry had given him some apple juice and began looking in their cupboards and fridge to see what all they had for breakfast.

            “Yeah,” Harry said, without elaborating on how much and if he kept it down, like Louis had hoped. “Are eggs and toast alright?”

            “That’s fine,” Louis answered, deciding not to push Harry for more answers than he was willing to give. Louis knew he wasn’t too far invested in their plans to back out, and it terrified him.

            Louis watched Harry cook, not saying much.

            “Throat hurt?” Harry asked as the eggs grew close to being finished and he put two pieces of bread into the toaster.

            “A little,” Louis admitted. “Why?”

            “It’s not like you to be silent,” Harry explained with a teasing smile.

            “Rude,” Louis said, though he was grinning as well.

            “Think you have strep?” Harry asked.

            “No. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

            Harry turned off the stove. A moment later, the bread popped up from the toaster. His timing was nearly impeccable. Duke had trained him well.

            Interestingly, after putting Louis’s piece of toast on a plate, along with a majority of the eggs, he pushed his own back down into the toaster, only seeming satisfied when the bread had turned a dark brown.

            “Burnt food has less calories,” he explained upon Louis’s questioning gaze.

            “Ah,” Louis replied. At least Harry was eating something that had carbs, he told himself. Still, Harry felt the need to defend himself.

            “I’m eating,” he said.

            “I know,” Louis told him. “I’m proud of you.”

            At that, Harry raised an eyebrow and then laughed.

            “What?” Louis asked.

            “That’s funny,” Harry told him.

            “What is?”

            “You’re proud of a fuck-up.”

            “We’re all fuck ups, really,” Louis said. “We can be proud of each other when we’re doing our best to fuck up a little less.”

            “You sound like my therapist.”

            “Niall does call me Dr. Phil. Maybe that’s a sign that I’ve been in therapy for too much of my life.”

            “Given that you almost leapt off a fifteen-hundred-foot bridge last night, I don’t think you’ve been to therapy enough.”

            Louis laughed, glad that Harry still felt comfortable teasing him. He didn’t want to be treated as if he were fragile, even when he was acting in such a way.

            “I’ll go back eventually,” Louis said, though added, “but I’m not usually like that. I’ve been without my medication for about a month, and I guess I should really fix that.”

            “Uh, yeah,” Harry said, clearly judging Louis.

            “Hey, I’m a poor traveler,” Louis said in his own defense. “Not all of us have the charisma to sell ourselves, you know.”

            Harry laughed loudly and choked on the small bite of burnt toast he’d taken in the process. Louis was suddenly proud of them both; Harry for eating at all, and himself for making the darkness in the other’s eyes vanish for just a moment.

            “Oh, charisma is what it takes, huh? It’s not a non-existent sense of self-respect?”

            “Call it what you will,” Louis said. Harry snorted into his cup.

            “You’re funny.”

            “Laughing makes it easier not to cry.”

            Harry laughed loudly again, and it took a moment for him to compose himself. Once he managed, he said,

            “Sorry. I’m not trying to make a joke out of your misery.”

            “I am,” Louis said. “I _was_ being quite dramatic about everything.”

            Harry shook his head.

            “I don’t think that’s the word for it.”

            Before standing with his half-empty plate, Harry leaned over to place a kiss on Louis’s forehead.

            “I’m going to get you some medicine, and then will you be okay while I go to the bathroom?”

            “Yes, unless you’re going to purge.”

            Harry shook his head again.

            “Nope. Just have to take a piss. I haven’t gone since before I got off work and I think my kidneys are about to explode.”

            “We don’t want that,” Louis told him. “I grant you permission to have a wee.”

            “Thank you,” Harry said, but then asked, “Promise you’re not going to do anything?”

            “I’ll be good,” Louis assured him.

            Harry retrieved medicine for Louis and then took the fastest pee known to man. Louis was comforted by the knowledge that there was no way Harry could have purged in that time, and Harry was notably relieved when he came back to find Louis still sitting at the breakfast bar, unharmed.

            “Alright, then,” Harry said, seemingly to himself. “If you’re done, we should probably start getting ready to go to the doctor.”

            “I thought we decided we weren’t going?” Louis asked, though his heart warmed yet again at the word ‘we.’

            “We came to no such conclusion,” Harry said. “We’re going to the doctor, and then we’re going apartment hunting.”

            “Or we could just go apartment hunting.”

            “We could, but we’re not going to.”

            Louis sighed. He didn’t think anything was seriously wrong with him, at least not physically, and he wanted to get Harry to find an apartment he loved and sign a contract immediately, before he changed his mind.

            “Come on,” Harry said. “We’ll shower together.”

            “Harry, I’m flattered, but I’m not sure how productive I’ll manage to be in my current state.”

            Harry rolled his eyes, but Louis was proud to see that his cheeks turned a bit pink.

            “I didn’t mean…not like that,” he said. “We’re showering together because I’m not leaving you alone for longer than a wee.”

            “Harry, I’m fine,” Louis said. “I’m not opposed to showering together but if the only reason you want to is because you think I’m going to kill myself, then it’s not necessary.”

            “Oh, trust me, that’s not the only reason,” Harry said with a wink, but his expression sobered quickly and he added, “I’m not quite enough of a dick to make a move on you after what you went through last night.”

            “He didn’t get far,” Louis assured the other. Harry gave him a hesitant look and asked,

            “Is that the truth or is that just what you want Liam to believe?”

            “It’s the truth.”

            “But did he try?”

            Louis shrugged, growing uncomfortable, and the concerned look on Harry’s face didn’t help matters.

            “I’m not sure how far he would have gone,” Louis answered, speaking quickly. Then, making sure to smile, he changed the subject.

            “Now am I gonna get to see you naked or what?”

            Harry turned on the water before he got into the shower. Deciding not to mention what a waste of water that was, Louis let himself get lost in Harry’s eyes as the two stared at each other, unsure of who was going to get undressed first.

            It wasn’t often that Louis saw Harry sober, and it amazed him how green his eyes were without a red tint.

            Louis knew his own body wasn’t spectacular, especially since he’d been slacking on his work-out game, but his mild body image issues had nothing on Harry’s, and so he took his shirt off first. Almost immediately, Harry followed suit and then removed his pajama bottoms as well. After that, it was only his boxers left, and Louis felt his heart rate pick up speed. Though he wasn’t deathly ill, he knew he should be too sick and mentally traumatized to be feeling the way he was.

            Misunderstanding what was going through Louis’s head, Harry’s eyes darkened, and he pulled his pants back up.

            “No, hey,” Louis began, but paused and then started over, speaking softer. “It’s gonna be kind of hard to shower with those on, don’t you think?”

            Harry almost smiled, then he slowly dropped his pants back down and stepped out of them. Louis did the same, a little quicker.

            The bathroom was starting to get steamy, and Harry’s curls became looser; The small amount of makeup he still had on began to smear.

            “You first,” Harry said, and it took Louis a moment to realize that the man was politely asking him to remove his underwear. Luckily, Louis had his fever to blame for any potentially awkward situations, but Harry didn’t say a word when the other became fully naked in front of him; merely gave an approving glance before completely undressing himself.

            Despite how turned on Louis was-and he didn’t check to see if Harry shared the same feelings (he didn’t want that kind of rejection if not)-the shower was completely innocent. Harry took it upon himself to wash Louis’s hair before he even washed his own, and he gave him a platonic kiss on the shoulder once he was done.

            Even though part of Louis still felt as though this was temporary and a lot of him still wanted to be mad at Harry for never following through, he felt himself falling in love all over again. Alarmingly, he almost wanted to cry, but he blamed his lingering fever for that as well.

            Since all Louis had to wear of his own was a sweaty shirt and equally sweaty underwear, he had to borrow some clothes from Harry.

“They’re so big on you,” Harry said in disdain.

“Just because you’re tall,” Louis said. He could tell Harry didn’t believe him, but he let the subject go.

In a true testament to how badly he wanted to get Louis to the doctor, Harry didn’t put a stitch of makeup on before leaving the house. Louis loved the different things Harry could do to his face, but he loved bare-faced Harry just as much. He wanted to tell Harry, but didn’t. Louis wasn’t putting _that_ much of himself on the line yet.

            The doctor diagnosed Louis with a viral infection but prescribed him an antibiotic anyway, just in case. As Louis couldn’t afford it, he was planning on not filling it, but Harry insisted he get it for him. He also requested that Louis call his psychiatrist and see if she would order him a refill of his anti-depressants, but Louis refused. He promised to go see someone once he started working for Zayn again, and he intended to keep that promise.

            Seeming to be set on keeping his promise as well, Harry drove Louis to an apartment complex that was advertising that it was looking for new residents.

            The one thing Louis and Harry hadn’t been counting on was no one wanting to let someone with a history of domestic violence and another with a recent drug charge rent from them.

            After their fourth rejection, Louis felt all the negativity from the previous night bottling up, and though he tried, he couldn’t help himself from breaking down in the car.   

            “Lou, it’s okay,” Harry said, placing his hand on the other’s knee reassuringly, but Louis shook his head.

            “No, it’s not! We made stupid mistakes! We’re good people, but we made dumbass decisions, and because of it, I’m going to be stuck having my little sister support me for the rest of my life, and you’re going to be left living with a psychopath!”

            “We won’t,” Harry promised, squeezing Louis’s knee before taking his hand. Louis furiously wiped his eyes with the other one, but he couldn’t stop crying.

            “I’ll figure something out, Lou,” Harry spoke again.

“How?! You can’t erase our records!”

            “We’ll live in a hotel if we have to,” Harry said. “What’s going to make you happy?”

            “You!” Louis said, without thinking. “You, if you’re clean and healthy and committed, but you’re just going to stay with me until you don’t feel scared or guilty anymore, and then you’ll leave!”

            “I won’t,” Harry said; another promise Louis desperately wanted to be true.

            Harry continued,

            “I don’t expect you to believe me. There’s no reason you would right now, but I mean everything I’m telling you. I’ve decided I want to be the hero.”

            Louis laughed, then snorted, then gasped for air. It wasn’t attractive in the slightest, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed.

            “Does that mean I’m the damsel?” he asked.

            “I think the damsel and the hero are interchangeable,” Harry said. “We’re not going to settle for being the villains, though; I’ll promise you that.”

            “Drugs and Duke are the villains,” Louis concluded.

            “Well, luckily for you, we’re going for a fairytale, and the one difference between a fairytale and a horror movie is that the villains only win in horror films.”

            Finally, Louis managed to smile, and Harry did too.

            “I love you,” Harry told him.

            “I’m not saying it yet, but same,” Louis said.

            “I’ll take it.”

            Before beginning their adventure to find a hotel, Harry took Louis to Lottie’s for his things. Louis’s key had been in his joggers, and since he’d lost those the previous night, he was left ringing the doorbell. He supposed it was just as well, since this was no longer his home.

            _You don’t have a home,_ the voice of depression said, but Louis was quick to silence it.

            Louis heard Lottie shout his name when she presumably looked through the peephole and saw him standing there. She struggled with the door, but finally managed to open it, and Louis was pulled into the tightest embrace he thought he’d ever been in. It took only a moment for him to realize that his sister was crying.

            “Hey, what’s this about?” Louis asked, keeping his tone light and hugging her back, even though it almost felt as if he were suffocating.

            “I thought you were dead! I thought he killed you!”

            “Wow. I thought I was dramatic.”

            Lottie lightly hit Louis’s shoulder as she pulled away from him, but then she noticed that he, too, had been crying, and worry took over her face.

            “What’s wrong?!”

            “Nothing. I’m just…overwhelmed.”

            The woman looked like she wanted to argue, but Louis stepped around her and went quickly to his bedroom. Lottie stayed behind, no doubt talking to Harry. Louis wanted to make sure he wasn’t saying too much, but he wanted to pack his things and leave more.

            He’d only managed to put half of his clothes into his suitcase when Harry joined, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. When Louis stopped throwing his belongings around to look at the other, he saw that he was smiling.

            “What?” Louis asked.

            “Nothing,” Harry replied. “Need help?”

            “Sure, if you want.”

            Harry entered the room, taking it upon himself to pick the clothes which had missed Louis’s bag off the floor and fold them.

            “I didn’t tell her,” he said after a moment, answering Louis’s unspoken question.

            “Thank you.”

            “Please don’t make me regret it.”

            “I told you, Haz; I won’t.”

            “I guess we’ll both have to learn to trust each other again.”

            Louis wanted to argue that he didn’t do anything, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. He’d now made Harry save his life twice, and if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t trust Harry if he claimed he was fine either.

            His hands full of items he needed to put in his bag, Louis stood up straight but instantly grew dizzy and fell back on the bed.

            “Lou?” Harry asked, dropping the shirt he was folding and sitting next to the other man.

            “I’m okay,” Louis told him. “Just got dizzy.”

            “You need rest,” Harry informed him, and then, as if the realization had just dawned on him, he said, “You probably need food and water, too!”

            “Yes, that would be lovely,” Louis agreed, as it had been well after three in the afternoon the last time he’d looked at the clock.

            “I’ll finish packing for you. Just sit there and rest, and then we’ll get food.”

            “Honestly, I say just throw everything into the bags and let’s go.”

            Wordlessly, Harry agreed and began tossing Louis’s belongings into his suitcases. He did so gently, but a moment later, when Louis felt better, he, again, began throwing his objects around carelessly. Soon, they had finished packing.

            “Louis, you really don’t have to leave,” Lottie said as she walked out to Harry’s car with the men.

            “I know,” Louis said. “Don’t take it personally. You’ve been great.”

            “No, I haven’t.”

            After throwing the bag he was holding into Harry’s trunk, Louis turned to give his sister another hug.

            “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

            “I love you, too,” Lottie replied. “I’m glad you’re with Harry, at least.”

            It was funny, Louis thought, how different the most important people in his life viewed his relationship with Harry. Niall hated it and thought it was toxic, while Lottie seemed to think they could be each other’s happily ever after. Zayn, on the other hand, thought it was too soon and the circumstances not quite right to be able to tell yet.

            They were all accurate, in a way.

            As promised, Harry stopped to get Louis some food on the route to Duke’s place. He even got a smoothie for himself. It didn’t matter than he only drank about half.

            Louis ate while Harry packed, and by the time he was finished, Harry was ready. As they were pulling out from the driveway, Duke arrived home, but the two ignored his curious stare.

            Harry lit a cigarette while they were driving down the road, but he had a small smile on his face. Even three years ago, he hadn’t looked quite so young.

            “Now, Lou,” Harry began when they’d reached a hotel; the first they saw. “Remember, this is the first place we’re trying and if it doesn’t work out, there are plenty more.”

            “I’ll be okay,” Louis assured him, though he couldn’t be completely positive, as he couldn’t trust his emotions lately.

            Luckily, he didn’t have to find out whether he could handle it or not because the hotel had a suite that was available for at least the next month, and Harry took it, though he did seem nervous when he was told that it was on the sixth floor.

            The pair went to check out the room before getting their bags. Harry unlocked the door, but held it open, allowing Louis to enter first.

            “Welcome home,” he said.

            “It’s beautiful,” Louis replied, looking around.

It was a modest suite, at best. The decorations were a bit outdated and some of the appliances looked as if they might quit at any moment, but the way Louis felt right then; peaceful, hopeful and simply _full_ , was beautiful.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one took so long to post again :(

***Louis***

            Harry and Louis spent the rest of the day in their hotel room; at home, they said. Louis spent the time in bed because even though he didn’t feel quite as awful as he had the previous day, he still didn’t feel great, and running around all day mixed with the roller coaster his emotions had been on finally caught up to him.

            For most of the day, Harry stayed in bed with him, watching television. Much of the time, Harry truly spent watching Louis.

            “Is there something you want to say?” Louis finally asked; not unkindly, just curious and nervous. However, Harry offered a smile and shook his head.

            “Nope. Just thinking.”

            Louis hoped his thoughts weren’t of regret over their decision, but he didn’t ask.

            “You play mysterious well, Styles,” Louis said instead.

            “Wanna know a secret?”

            “Please.”

            “That’s because I literally never have a clue what’s going on.”

            Louis snorted and repositioned himself, kicking the light blanket that had been covering him off. He wished his body would hurry and decide whether it wanted to be hot or cold.

            “You okay?” Harry asked.

            “Yes,” Louis replied. “Do you mind if I take my shirt off?”

            “By all means.”

            Louis took off his shirt-which was actually Harry’s shirt-and tossed it on the ground after giving it a look of disgust.

            “I got your clothes all sweaty,” he informed the other.

            “Oh my god, you’re so gross,” Harry teased. He clearly didn’t care how disgusting Louis was because Harry then ran his own hand through Louis’s damp hair.

            “Why do I put up with you?” Harry said, the soft look on his face answering the question for Louis.

            “Because I’m adorable.”

            “Accurate.”

            Harry dropped his arm back down to rest on the mattress and offered Louis a small smile. Louis couldn’t have helped to return it even if he’d tried.

            They ordered room service for dinner that night, and Harry ate almost what could have been considered a normal amount. Louis almost told him again that he was proud, but then thought it might be best not to comment at all.

            Louis fell asleep shortly after eating while the pair were watching “The Princess Bride,” which was, apparently, one of Harry’s favorite movies; he’d gasped when he saw it listed. Sometime shortly after, Louis assumed it was when the film ended, Harry turned off the television and the light. Louis woke just a bit at the movement and smiled sleepily, his eyes still closed, when Harry kissed his forehead.

            “Goodnight, Lou,” Harry said, and then, even quieter, “Love you.”

            “‘Night,” Louis sighed happily, letting the smile on his face speak the words he wouldn’t say.

            “Are you awake?” Harry asked, but Louis was too tired to reply. In less than half a minute, he’d fallen back to sleep.

            When Louis woke for the final time that morning, Harry seemed to just be waking as well. He had one eye open while he rubbed vigorously at the other one, a frown on his face until he saw Louis looking at him, and then, he smiled.

            “‘Morning,” he said in his deep, husky morning voice. Even though Louis was still trying not to get his hopes up too much, he wanted to wake up and have that voice be the first thing he heard every morning.

            “Good morning,” Louis returned.

            “How do you feel?”

            “I’m not sure yet.”

            Harry nodded and stopped rubbing his eye. It was red from where he’d been applying pressure and Louis gave a small laugh when Harry huffed.

            “I don’t think you’re ready for it to be morning yet,” he commented.

            “I didn’t sleep great,” Harry explained.

            “Yeah? You okay?”

            “I’m okay. I’m used to it.”

            “Oh. So it doesn’t have anything to do with being here?”

            Harry gave a look that Louis couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t exactly sympathetic, but seemed a bit sorrowful; not enough to break Lois’s heart, though.

            “It’s nothing to do with being here,” Harry assured him, lacing their fingers together. “How about you? How’d you sleep?”

            “Great, once I finally finished sweating.”

            Using his hand that wasn’t interlocked with Louis’s, Harry felt his forehead.

            “I think you’ve gotten rid of the fever.”

            “Yeah, I think I feel better.”

            “You think?”

            “I’ll have to get up to know for sure.”

            “Do we really have to get out of bed today?”

            “I suppose not,” Louis answered after thinking on it for a moment. “I was going to go talk to Zayn about starting work again, but there’s always tomorrow.”

            Harry offered a small smile and then took his hand back from Louis to rub at his eye again.

            “No, I guess we should get up,” he said. “I’m supposed to pee in a cup today.”

            “You don’t want to miss that.”

            “I do until I’m thrown in jail.”

            “‘Tis what I meant.”

            Louis sat up. He was a bit dizzy, but was probably just dehydrated. Everything hurt less today-physically and otherwise.

            “Anything else exciting planned for the day?”

            “Not until community service tomorrow.”

            “Ooh, what do you get to do?”

            “I think tomorrow is picking trash up from the highway.”

            “That sounds thrilling. Wish I could join.”

            Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped slightly, as if a thought just struck him.

            “What _are_ you going to do while I’m gone?!”

            “Not jump off a bridge or hotel balcony, that’s for damn sure,” Louis said, feeling as if he knew what was on Harry’s mind. The other narrowed his eyes.

            “Maybe you can hang out with Zayn or Lottie or someone.”

            “Okay, Harry. If it makes you feel better, I’ll try to find a babysitter tomorrow.”

            “It _would_ make me feel better. And you’re coming with me to work tonight.”

            “Oh…that sounds like a bad idea.”

            For some reason, Harry appeared a bit offended by what Louis said.

            “Why’s that?” he asked. Louis almost gaped at him, feeling as if the reasoning should be obvious, but luckily, he refrained and kept his tone teasing when he replied.

            “I’ve got a bit of a jealous side. It might not be good for me to actually see you taking off your clothes for other men.”

            It was bad enough when he thought about it.

            “Oh,” Harry said, looking relieved. “Well, I don’t do anything, really. I’m just the waiter.”

            “I apologize if I sound rude, Harry, but what exactly does that mean?”

            “It means I give people their drinks while wearing barely any clothes.”

            He stopped speaking for a moment, then quickly added,

            “but what I _do_ wear stays on.”

            “I see,” Louis said. “That’s good. Maybe I’ll find it easier not to kick someone’s arse, then.”

            Harry smiled, one eyebrow quirking up slightly.

            “Your jealous side is kind of hot,” he admitted.

            “You think?”

            “Yeah. You know, sometimes I do have to let people touch my butt…”

            Louis knew Harry was teasing, but the jealousy he felt was real. It was ridiculous because he didn’t even know the exact status of his and Harry’s relationship, but this was the closest he’d ever been to making the other his and he didn’t like the thought of anyone coming between them.

            Still, Louis had shown Harry more than enough crazy during the past couple of days, so he played along.

            “I hope you’ve got high security at that place, then.”

            Harry beamed, rewarding Louis for keeping his issues in check, and then he leaned in closer, clearly going in for a kiss, before stopping himself. Louis was suddenly very self-conscious as to how he was breathing. Harry’s eyes scanned across his face, the faintest smile still gracing his lips.

_Are you gonna kiss me or what?_ Louis almost asked, but didn’t. He was a grown man and, yes, he wasn’t going to give Harry _everything_ he wanted easily, but, damn it, Louis wanted that kiss too. There was no use torturing himself in his pride, and so, not thinking about how neither man had yet to brush their teeth, and without considering that he may be contagious, Louis tangled his fingers in Harry’s hair and brought the other’s face down to where he could properly kiss him. Harry made a noise of approval, and without breaking lip contact, positioned himself to where he was straddling Louis without putting weight on him.

            Slowly, Louis removed his hands from Harry’s hair to gently guide his hips down. Harry paused, looking at Louis with mild panic in his eyes.

            “You’re so hot,” Louis half-whispered, his voice rough from every emotion he was feeling. That seemed to be enough for Harry, and he began to kiss Louis again.

            Louis wasn’t sure how far he would have let things go. He didn’t feel near sexy enough to perform to his best ability, but if Harry wanted it all, he didn’t know if he was in the right place mentally or physically to decline him.

            Harry stopped anyway when Louis unthinkingly ran a hand up his shirt and squeezed his hip, and Louis instantly knew why.

            “Sor-” he began, because his last intention had been to make Harry feel self-conscious, but Harry stole his apology from him with a kiss.

            “You should still be resting,” he said, and Louis would have argued but he knew it was true. Even their light make-out session had him feeling weak and dizzy.

            “Can we get breakfast?” he asked.

            “Sure,” Harry replied. “Do you want to go out or get room service?”

            “I’m much too gross to go out right now,” Louis said. “Also, I’m much too hungry. I think I’m just going to run to the vending machine down the hall. Do you want anything?”

            Harry gave Louis a look to inform him that was a stupid question, which Louis had already known.

            “Alright, then,” Louis commented, mostly to himself. “I’ll be right back.”

            “Promise?”

            “I promise.”

            Louis hurried while getting a pack of doughnuts from the machine. He really wanted a tea from the drink vendor next to it, but he was using Harry’s card and the less he owed anyone, the better.

            Harry was in the bathroom when Louis returned. After getting a glass of water from the sink in their tiny kitchen, Louis settled himself at the island bar and began to eat. He hoped Harry would join him soon, but then the shower turned on, leaving him disappointed. He supposed he should be happy that Harry was trusting him alone for long enough to shower, but Louis had been looking forward to showering together again.

            The shower was still going when Louis finished his breakfast. Louis tried not to be concerned, but listened at the door. In between the regular patter of the water hitting the bottom of the tub, he also heard a heavier splash, like Harry was ringing out a washcloth.

            Taking comfort in the fact that he was at least conscious, Louis walked away from the door to search in his bags for an outfit. He was just re-zipping his bag (eventually he would put his clothes into one of the dresser drawers, but today was not that day) when he heard the lock to the bathroom door click. It was pathetic how his heart skipped.

            Louis turned around, about to make a joke about how Harry clearly didn’t enjoy their shower together yesterday, but he stopped himself when he saw Harry’s red, splotchy eyes.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling as if he already knew the answer. Harry regretted what they’d done. He didn’t want to be here with Louis; didn’t love Louis.

            However, when Harry replied, all he said was a simple,

            “Nothing.”

            “Harry,” Louis said his name flatly, hoping to portray that he wasn’t interested in playing anymore games. “If we’re going to do this…whatever this is, then you’ve got to tell me the truth about everything.”

            “You know how I am, Louis,” Harry said with a sigh as he retrieved his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and took one out.

            “Yeah, but there’s always a reason,” Louis said, sitting on the bed and wadding his outfit for the day into a ball on his lap.

            “Crying is a typical reaction when I see myself in the mirror,” Harry said, and Louis could tell he was trying to turn it all into a joke, but his smile fell flat and his lip trembled ever so slightly. Louis was glad when Harry continued without being prodded.

            “I developed eating disorders to lose weight. Then, when I was going through withdrawals and I lost more weight than I ever had, it was too much. I never look right or feel right, and despite what I know you’re going to say, I’m not good enough for you or anyone else.”

            “You know I’m going to tell you you’re wrong, then?” Louis asked, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t breaking like it did every time Harry degraded himself.

            “Yeah. I just don’t know why,” Harry replied.

            “Because it’s true,” Louis told him. “You’ve done some fucked up shit, Harry, but so have I; so has everyone. You’ve hurt people, as we’ve all done. Deep down, I know you’re a good person. I think you’re just too stuck on what’s on the outside to showcase it.”

            Louis paused, but once he realized he hadn’t offended Harry, he continued.

            “It’s not how you look or what material things you’ve got that determine if you’re good enough. Trust me, you’re very attractive, but it takes more than good looks to keep me lusting after someone for years.”

            “But, Lou…I was so awful to you.”

            Harry sunk down to the bed. The hand that was holding his unlit cigarette was shaking and it almost looked as if Harry might be sick. Still, Louis didn’t soften his response.

            “Yeah, you were, and it was Hell. But you’ve also saved my life multiple times, and twice physically.”

            Harry frowned.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Before I met Niall and Zayn, you were my only friend in California. Until you came along, if I wasn’t out with Duke, I was in bed, wishing I was dead.”

            “We weren’t friends, Louis,” Harry said, and just like the first time he’d said those words, it felt as if the other had just run over his heart with a steamroller.

            Unaware of the emotional turmoil that he’d just caused, Harry continued.

            “I got you drunk and high so I wouldn’t have to do it alone. You spent hours working on my music with me, and what did you ever get in return?”

            “Free drugs and alcohol, and live entertainment. What more could a guy want?”

            Harry gave Louis a look to show that he wasn’t amused. Still, Louis couldn’t help but to smile, and he laid down so that his head was in Harry’s lap. Almost instinctively, Harry started playing with his hair.

            “I understand regret, Harry,” Louis said, more seriously. “But I also know that it typically does no good. Let’s just move on the best we can, yeah? Over time, it will get easier.”

            “I hope so.”

            “Well, in the least, it can’t get much worse, can it?”

            “Probably. I prefer not to test it.”

            Louis sighed, but rather than continuing to tell Harry positive things that he just wasn’t ready to hear yet, Louis reached up to poke the tip of the other man’s nose.

            “Is that why you didn’t wait for me to shower this morning?” Louis asked. To clarify, he added, “Because of all those insecurities?”

            “Look at you, Lou,” Harry said in lieu of a direct answer. “Your body is perfect-”

            “Perfect?” Louis snorted. He hadn’t meant to cut Harry off, but his words were funny, whether he meant them to be or not. “Harry, I haven’t worked out in a good few months and my diet has consisted of lots of pizza and alcohol.”

            “Way to brag,” Harry teased. Somewhere along the line, he’d stopped playing with Louis’s hair, but he began again.

            “You really do have a fucked view of the world if you think my body is perfect,” Louis said. “Besides, yours is just fine. I want you to be healthy, but if you didn’t notice, I quite enjoyed that shower yesterday.”

            Harry raised an eyebrow, appearing genuinely unsure.

            “Did you?”

            “Um…yeah…”

            Louis wasn’t sure whether or not he should be offended by the fact that Harry didn’t notice just how much he’d liked seeing him without clothes.

            “You didn’t say anything,” Harry said.

            “I am still playing hard to get, you know.”

            Finally, Harry smiled.

            “I see.”

            “But, yeah, I think you’re super hot.”

            In a softer tone of voice, Louis added,

            “You’re enough, Haz.”

            Though he was still smiling, Louis thought he saw some moisture well up in Harry’s eyes. He couldn’t be sure because the other looked away, only for a moment, but when he locked eyes with Louis again, any potential moisture was gone.

            “Are you going to get a shower?” he asked, putting both hands behind himself. “I do have to go do my test sometime today.”

            Louis groaned.

            “Why must the world be so cruel?”

            “Good question. Let me know when you find the answer, yeah?”

            Louis took a shower, leaving the door unlocked for Harry’s peace of mind, even though he didn’t like it. He knew Duke wasn’t there. No one that would hurt him-at least physically-had access to that room, but with every noise, real and imaginary, he found himself peeking his head out from behind the shower curtain to ensure that he was still alone.

            Harry’s drug test didn’t take long, and while Harry seemed embarrassed to be there, another surge of pride welled up in Louis. He told Harry so, but that only seemed to embarrass him more.

            After leaving the testing facility, Harry drove the pair to Zayn’s tattoo shop.

            “Can I come in too?” Harry asked as Louis undid his seatbelt.

            “Well, yeah, if you want to,” Louis said. “I’m not your boss, Harry.”

            With a nod, Harry quickly shut off the car, as if Louis would change his mind if he took too long, and exited the vehicle. He pulled down his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, seeming anxious, but Louis didn’t ask. There were times when he knew it was perfectly fine to tease and interrogate Harry, but he also knew when doing so would do more harm than good, and now was one of those times.

            A happy, hopeful feeling came over Louis as he heard the familiar bell announcing his arrival at the shop. He looked over to the counter, expecting to be greeted with one of Zayn’s smiles, but it wasn’t Zayn sitting there; it was Liam, and when he saw Louis, his eyes widened and he all but threw his phone that he’d been messing about with onto the counter in his rush to get to Louis. Before Louis really had time to register that a ball of muscle was barreling towards him, Liam had pulled him into a hug. His grip was strong, but it wasn’t suffocating. In fact, it was quite comforting, and Louis was glad that Zayn had these arms to fall into after a bad day.

            “Louis, oh my god,” Liam said speaking frantically. “I’m so, so sorry.”

            “You’ve told me already, Li,” Louis reminded the other gently while returning his hug. “Everything’s fine, remember?”

            “No, it’s not. It’s so shit that he did that.”

            “Yeah, but _he_ did it, not you, and I’m not under the illusion that you introduced us with the inkling that he would try to hurt me.”

            “Of course not.”

            Liam said the words like he was just realizing that he was innocent. Louis hoped he was because as much as he wished he’d never met Randy, not a single part of him blamed Liam for it. Besides, maybe everything really did happen for a reason. After all, his breakdown that night had brought Harry to him again.

            Liam let go of Louis, still fighting off emotion but managing to give that big, crinkly-eyed smile that Louis always heard about from Zayn.

            Only just seeming to notice Harry standing a few feet behind Louis, Liam’s smile changed. It wasn’t any less friendly; simply shyer.

            “Hi, Harry,” he said, stepping around Louis to get closer to the other. “I’m Liam. I’m not sure we’ve ever officially met.”

            “Not properly,” Harry said, accepting the handshake that Liam was offering. “I’ve heard lots about you and Zayn, though.”

            “And we’ve definitely heard lots about you,” Liam returned.

            “Oh god.”

            Liam laughed, clapping Harry lightly on the shoulder before dropping his arms down to his side.

            “Don’t worry about it, mate. We’ve all got demons.”

            Harry didn’t have a chance to reply before Zayn’s voice sounded out, getting closer as he spoke until he was in eyesight. He was talking to a client, explaining the typical aftercare for their new tattoo, and Liam smiled when he saw him. Zayn never returned his gaze, but he did brush his hand not-so-subtly against Liam’s butt as he passed behind him to get to the counter.

            Only after the lady whom he’d just tattooed left the store with her friend did Zayn acknowledge the others with a smile.

            “Hey, Lou. Hey, Harry.”

            The two said their hellos and Louis couldn’t help but to notice Harry seemed a bit surprised at the kind welcomes he’d received. Louis decided he was going to have to warn him if they were to ever meet up with Niall.

            “Is someone getting tattooed?” Zayn asked.

            “Maybe,” Louis said, smiling at Harry as he remembered the time he told him he could use his body as a canvas, “but I actually just came by to beg for my job back.”

            “I already gave it back to you, remember?” Zayn asked with an amused roll of his eyes.

            “Well, I didn’t know if the offer was still standing.”

            “Of course it is. When do you want to start?”

            “Tomorrow?” Louis asked.

            “Fine by me.”

            “Cool,” Louis said, a smile breaking across his face.

            “Aces. Now that we have that settled, do you two want some lunch? Li and I were going to order something in.”

            “Sure. What are you having?”

            “I don’t know yet. Liam?”

            “Doesn’t matter to me.”

            “Okay. Lou?”

            “I don’t know. Harry?”

            Harry’s eyes widened as everyone looked at him, expecting him to make a decision about food. Somewhat randomly, he said,

            “I haven’t eaten today.”

            “Well, mate, I think you definitely need nourishment then,” Zayn said, knowing, like Louis, where Harry’s statement had come from. “Chinese or pizza?”

            The group decided on Chinese and Liam stepped outside to place the order. Zayn had a small smile on his face as he watched him go, but after the door closed behind him, Zayn looked to Louis, his expression serious.

            “How are you doing?”

            “I’m fine. Thank you for the concern, really, but if I could never get that question regarding this situation again, that would be great.”

            “We’re just worried about you, Lou.”

            “I know, and I appreciate it, but I’m really okay. I’d just like to pretend it never happened.”

            “You should report it before he does it to some other innocent lad.”

            “I’ve got no proof anything happened because nothing really did.”

            “Your pants and blood were in his bedroom.”

            “It looked more serious than what it was, I promise.”

            Both Harry and Zayn looked like they wanted to argue that statement, but they all pretended like they weren’t having the conversation they were as Liam came back in.

            “The food should be here in thirty or so minutes.”

            “Cool. Thanks, Li. Do you mind if I leave the money we owe you with Zayn tomorrow?”

            “You don’t owe me anything.”

            Louis sighed.

            “What am I going to do with you all?”

            “Just love us,” Zayn teased with a grin.

            “That’s easy enough, I suppose.”

            With his own ornery smirk, Louis added,

            “Most of the time.”

            As the four waited for their food, and even as they ate, they kept up light conversation. Both Liam and Zayn did a good job of including Harry, and Louis was grateful. Maybe it was too much to hope that they would ever actually be friends, but hope he did. Harry needed a good support team; one that consisted of more than just Louis.

            Soon after eating, Liam had to get to work and Harry and Louis left too. Louis assured Zayn that he would see him tomorrow and that soon he would see Harry as well, since Louis was planning to add some more art to his body. Zayn told them both that he was looking forward to it.

            “They’re nice,” Harry commented as he began to drive away.

            “They’re good people,” Louis agreed.

            “It was kind of funny hearing Liam talk about demons,” Harry commented lightly. “He seems like such a ball of sunshine.”

            “Yeah, but he dated a guy that was a lot like Duke,” Louis explained. “I don’t know all the details, but I think he was depressed for a while.”

            “Dating a guy like that will do that to a person,” Harry said. “I’m glad he’s free.”

            “I’m glad you’re free.”

            Harry shot Louis a smile. His eyes quickly diverted back to the road, but his grin remained. After a moment, he took Louis’s hand, gently stroking the skin as he drove. Louis hated to threaten Harry’s smile or this intimacy between the two, but a question had been plaguing him ever since Harry had mentioned that he had nowhere to go but to Duke, back before he and Louis were doing whatever they were currently doing.

            “Haz, can I ask you something?”

            “Go for it,” Harry said, not seeming worried like Louis knew he would be if those words were spoken to him.

            “Well…um…I was just wondering…What happened to Gemma?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Harry looked confused, though not upset, as he glanced over his right shoulder to make sure it was clear for him to switch lanes.

            “It’s just…you acted like you had nowhere to go but to Duke when you came back, but you’ve stayed with your sister before. Do you guys…I mean, I know this is none of my business, so you don’t have to answer, but do you two still talk?”

            “Oh, yeah; we’re cool,” Harry said, letting go of Louis’s hand for only a moment to brush a stray hair from his face. “She thinks I’m an idiot, but she’s right about that, of course. She would have let me stay with her, but I just couldn’t.”

            “Can I ask why not?”

            “You can ask me anything,” Harry said, and then explained, “As selfish as this sounds, it’s hard for me to see how well she has her shit together. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she does, but it’s a reminder of how fucked up I let my life get. We come from the same background; same genetics, both of us in foster care…She tells me that her homes weren’t that bad; that they never hurt her. Still, I know they didn’t love her, but instead of turning to drugs, alcohol, cigarettes or sleeping with strangers to fill that void, she went to school. She made friends and concentrated on living a healthy, full life. I’m proud of her, but also kind of…eh…jealous, I guess.”

            “That makes sense,” Louis said, “but maybe you could try to change the jealousy into inspiration.”

            Louis expected Harry to crack a ‘Dr. Phil’ joke at that, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave a slight nod and gazed out the front window, a contemplative expression on his face. When he broke out of his near-trance, he cleared his throat and smiled at Louis, whose own lips turned upwards.

            “Do you mind if I put some music on?” Louis asked when conversation did not resume.

            “Sure. Go ahead.”

            Louis flipped on the radio and used the cable he saw in Harry’s dashboard to plug in his phone. It took a moment for Harry to recognize the song he chose, but he gave him a disapproving glance when he did.

            “What?” Louis asked, grinning mischievously. “You love this song.”

            “I swear, I drunkenly mention the things I would do to you in the backseat of your Rover one time and I never hear the end of it.”

            “I was married.”

            “I know.”

            “And I didn’t have a Rover.”

            “I’m sorry that I’m not a car guy, Lou. Jeez.”

            “I may have done it if I thought you were serious.”

            Harry’s eyebrows nearly met his hairline.

            “Really?”

            “Maybe.”

            Before Harry had a chance to reply, Louis began singing. He hoped Harry would sing along, but he simply smiled and shook his head.

            “Come on, Haz,” Louis encouraged as the chorus almost ended for the first time. “You’ve got Halsey’s part.”

            “Uh-uh.”

            “Yeah-huh.”

            “I don’t sound like I used to.”

            “So? It’s just me.”

            Harry chewed his lip, appearing as though he were making a life or death decision. Again, he pulled his hand away from Louis, this time to mess with his hair nervously. He didn’t look as if he even knew whether he was going to sing or not until his mouth came open and he started belting out the words; a beat too late, but he caught up easily. Louis was smiling from ear to ear, but he didn’t cheer Harry on, afraid that would stop him.

            Harry’s voice was a bit shakier than it had been, but Louis thought most of it was from nerves. He never was nervous over performances before; whether that be from the substances he ingested prior, because he knew he was good, or simply because he liked the attention regardless. When he reached the chorus and Louis started singing with him, his voice steadied, supporting Louis’s theory. Besides the fact that he took deeper breaths than he had before his injury, he sounded virtually the same. The one time his voice cracked, Louis barely noticed because he put a twist on the rest of the note to blend it in.

            Harry was amazing, and Louis told him so once the song was over.

            “Nah. I sound like shit now,” Harry said without any emotion behind the words. It was as if he were stating a fact as simple as the color of the sky.

            “You don’t,” Louis said. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

            “Somehow, I think you would rather lie than tell me I sound like shit.”

            “Well, I certainly wouldn’t use those words, no matter what, but I wouldn’t tell you that you sounded amazing if you didn’t. I’ve seen the “American Idol” auditions of people whose family tells them they can sing when they can’t. It’s cruel.”

            Again, Harry simply smiled, neither agreeing or disagreeing with Louis. The slight pink in his cheeks showed that he had appreciated Louis’s words anyway.

            Once Harry parked into a spot at the hotel they were staying at, he let out a sigh and leaned his head against the seat, his eyes closing.

            “You good?” Louis asked, noting how drained Harry suddenly looked, but Harry opened his eyes and offered a small grin.

            “Good,” he said, reaching over to stroke Louis’s cheek. After a moment, he sat up and leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to the other’s lips.

            “Do you want to take me to the backseat of your not-Rover?” Louis asked, surprising himself with how prepared he suddenly was, when the pair broke apart and Harry was stroking Louis’s jawline.

            “No,” Harry said with a laugh, and then amended,

            “Actually, I do, but I’m not going to; not until you trust me not to hurt you.”

            “I know you won’t.”

            “I didn’t mean physically, Lou.”

            Louis chewed the inside of his cheek, feeling bad. He didn’t want to keep dragging Harry’s demons out or punishing him for them, even if they had affected Louis.

            Sensing his distress, Harry said,

            “You _shouldn’t_ trust me yet. You’d be stupid to. I want to have to earn your trust with no excuses.”

            “You’re off to a good start,” Louis said, angry at himself for nearly crying. He wondered if he was too healthy now to blame his cold, or whatever it was.

            “But not there yet,” Harry acknowledged, brushing lightly at Louis’s eye. No tears had fallen yet, but they came trickling one by one at the touch.

            “Fuck you,” Louis said tearfully, rubbing at his eyes. Harry gave a small, but not mean, laugh.

            “I hope those are good tears.”

            “I’ve got no fucking clue what kind of tears they are or where they came from. I need a nap.”

            Harry let out another small, sympathetic laugh as he lightly squeezed the back of Louis’s neck.

            “A nap sounds great. Want to do that and then a little later eat some dinner before I go to work?”

            “Yes. That is exactly what I want.”

            Louis didn’t mention that he wished Harry wouldn’t go to work. He had to make money to achieve his dream. One day, Louis hoped he would be the only one touching Harry’s butt and seeing so much of his skin. Someday, Harry would be a respected event coordinator and when Louis told him how proud he was of him, maybe he would finally believe it.

***Harry***

            Harry tried to fight the urge, but it was hopeless. His therapist had told him that it didn’t matter what he was doing; that he wasn’t addicted to the sex, cutting, starving, purging, or even the cigarettes, alcohol or drugs, at least not mentally. He was addicted to pain, and especially when it was self-inflicted.

            Harry supposed that made sense. The physical withdrawals from the drugs had been awful, but it hadn’t been too hard for him to stay clean. Sometimes he would want to feel a small pill slide down his throat or have the itch and ache of powder go up his nose. Occasionally, he even missed putting a needle in his arm even though he hadn’t done those types of drugs very often, but he never felt like he _needed_ to do it, like a true addict would.

            According to his therapist, he chose whichever behavior was most fitting with his settings and that he was most likely to get away with, and that became his drug, even if it was simply him leaning over the toilet with his fingers down his throat, as he was currently doing.

            It was after dinner, and Louis was awake, but Harry was getting away with it by telling Louis he needed to shower before work.

            “You showered this morning,” Louis had said with a laugh. “Can’t you just wash your arse or something?”

            Harry had laughed too, but told him he felt better if he showered before going in. Truthfully, it was after work that Harry typically felt he should cleanse, but he’d needed an escape.

            Part of Harry was surprised that Louis wasn’t suspicious, but he’d eaten without struggle and let nearly an hour pass before slipping off, so perhaps it wasn’t all that strange.

            If Harry was a true anorexic, forty-five minutes would have been way too long for him to wait. He would have needed the food out before it had time to absorb and make him fatter, but, like everything else about him, his eating disorder was fake.

            It was easy for Harry to claim his body image issues-which he did have-as the reason for his eating habits. It was what people expected, it made sense, and it was more understandable than saying he liked the thought of his body eating itself; just devouring and destroying everything he felt until all that was left was hunger pains. Blaming his body image issues for his abnormal diet sounded better than the fact that he wasn’t trying to get rid of food when he purged; he was trying to throw up his sadness, fear, and shame and flush it all down the toilet.

            If he were a true anorexic, Harry wouldn’t sometimes starve himself and sometimes not. He wouldn’t purge after eating a little, but do nothing after going on a binge where he could ingest over a thousand calories of junk food in one sitting because he deserved to feel disgusting and miserable.

            Leave it to Harry to not even be able to do addictions or mental illness correctly.

            Harry had tried to purge that morning, but he hadn’t eaten enough for anything of worth to come up. That had been part of the reason for his breakdown in the shower. The other part was him waking up next to beautiful, sweet Louis, feeling whole, and then realizing he didn’t deserve to keep him.

            _“You’ll continue to hurt others as long as you hurt yourself, Harry,”_ his therapist had once told him, but as Harry got up from off his knees and entered the shower, he vowed to not let that be true. He wouldn’t allow himself to hurt Louis again. There was no one on this Earth that deserved Louis Tomlinson, but Harry was going to try to be that man, even if he didn’t quite know how.

            When he left the bathroom after showering, brushing his teeth, and using drops to rid the redness of his eyes, Louis was laying on the couch watching television, one arm over his forehead.

            “Alright, love?” Harry asked as he approached the other, and Louis smiled when he looked up at Harry standing over him.

            “Alright,” he said, removing his arm from his forehead and holding it out, welcoming Harry to lay with him. The couch wasn’t big, so Harry was basically all the way on top of Louis, but Louis didn’t seem to care, so neither did Harry. For the moment, he didn’t feel quite so heavy.

            “Are _you_ alright?” Louis asked, looking quite concerned as he began absently playing with Harry’s curls.

            “I’m good,” Harry said, putting on the best smile he could muster. Louis didn’t fall for it.

            “You sure?”

            Harry didn’t know how Louis always _knew_ , but he did. He both loved and hated it.

            “I’m feeling a bit peaky, honestly,” Harry said, and it wasn’t a lie. On top of not sleeping well last night, he hadn’t been able to nap, and purging seemed to drain the rest of the energy he had in his body. Besides, his throat hurt. He had been trying to move quickly and, in the process, had torn up the back of his throat quite a bit with his nails.

            “You’re probably getting what I have,” Louis said, looking sad about it.

            “I don’t think I’d be catching yours yet,” Harry commented, but because he didn’t want Louis to question it, he added, “I guess it could be, though.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “It’s okay,” Harry said, bopping Louis on the nose to try to make his frown go away. It didn’t work. “Kissing you is worth it.”

            “I wish you didn’t have to go to work.”

            “Me too, but I’ve got about an hour. Wanna spend sixty minutes snuggling?”

            “I can’t think of anything I would rather do.”

            Louis stretched over Harry to retrieve the blanket the hotel had draped across the back of the couch and he put it over Harry, whose eyes fell shut immediately. He knew he shouldn’t sleep. At this point, if he dozed for an hour, he would wake feeling worse than before, but, while listening to the steady thump of Louis’s heartbeat and feeling the occasional vibration of his chest when he quietly laughed at something on the television, Harry couldn’t help it and he fell asleep hoping he would one day make Louis feel as at home as he did in the moment.

           

           

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the past couple chapters have been mainly dialogue, but I felt it was important for everyone to be on the same page with where Louis and Harry are, separately and together. I also don't want to drag the story on for too long, but there are a couple important things that still need to happen and I want to give you all a decent amount of fluff and happiness since you've been so patient XD Thank you to everyone who is still reading!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it's been...like...almost a month, and I really am sorry, but let me tell you, it has been A MONTH, if you know what I'm saying. Anyway, hopefully this chapter will be worth it. I'm going to try to have an idea of how many chapters are left in my next update...which will be sooner than a month...
> 
> Also, to lessen any confusion because there is a brief mention of weed in this chapter, it is now legal in California, but it was not at the time this took place so just bear with me. It's really not a significant thing, I just wanted to clear that up.

***Louis***

            “Morning, Lou!”

            “Good morning, Zayn.”

            Louis took his place behind the counter like he’d never left, and his friend smiled at him, reflecting the comfort Louis felt inside.

            “You ready to get back into this?” Zayn asked.

            “I’m a little nervous,” Louis admitted.

            “You’ll do fine,” Zayn assured him. “You can start off with the small, easy stuff if you want, but you’re going to do great, just like you did before.”

            “I hope so.”

            “You’ve got nothing to worry about, but here...”

            Zayn reached under the desk to grab a sheet of paper and a pen; both of which he slid to Louis.

            “If you want to get your hands used to drawing again,” he said. Louis thanked the man, but as he stared at the piece of paper, the only thing he could find inspiration to draw was a heart surrounding a fancy letter ‘H,’ as if he were a schoolgirl with her first puppy crush.

            “Bro,” Zayn said, and Louis felt heat rise to his cheeks as he flipped the paper over. Still, Zayn had already seen his drawing and was looking at Louis as if he’d lost his mind.    

            “That was beautiful, mate, but I’m not sure anyone would want that tattooed on their body except, perhaps, you.”

            “Might as well,” Louis said, even though his cheeks were still burning. “Maybe I can cover Duke’s initials.”

            Zayn shook his head, but his serious face fell apart when he laughed.

            “So, are you two together now, then?”

            “Right now, we’re kind of just seeing what happens.”

            “That sounds like it could bring trouble.”

            “How so?”

            Louis had thought that Zayn was at least slightly more accepting than Niall, but his heart dropped at the feeling that maybe he was wrong.

            And, on that note, Louis really should call Niall soon. He was going to get told off anyway, but the longer he waited, the worse it would be.

            “I just feel like, if there aren’t any labels, it leaves the door open for lots of confusion and hurt,” Zayn said. “Something he may think is okay, you might disagree with, and vice versa.”

            “He said he was going to prove that he wasn’t going to hurt me,” Louis said. “I’m assuming he knows that would require him not getting with other men.”

            In fact, Louis was quite certain that he had told Harry that he didn’t want him messing around with others if they were to get involved, and that Harry had agreed. Now Louis only had to hope that Harry hadn’t been telling him what he wanted to hear to keep him from ending his life.

            It had comforted Louis a bit, seeing Harry at work. Louis had sat at a far table, drinking alcohol that Harry kept supplying him, but he kept a close watch. It was hard, of course, seeing all the drunk, horny men run their fingers along Harry’s waist or pinch his thigh or buttocks, but, while Harry smiled and kept up the façade necessary to receive tips, he always managed to subtly get away from a touch that was a hint too personal, and Louis had even seen him roll his eyes a couple times once his back was turned on the patron. He did so even when he didn’t know that Louis was looking.

            It had felt good too, whenever someone, whether it be a worker or a patron, sat down to talk to Louis and, suddenly, Harry was right there greeting Louis with a, ‘hey, sweetie; what film are we going to watch when we get home tonight?’ to show that Louis was off-limits.

            “Alright,” Zayn said, still sounding unsure.

            “Thanks for being nice to him yesterday, by the way,” Louis said. “I think it meant a lot to him.”

            “He makes you happy,” Zayn said with a shrug, then amended, “Kind of.”

            “He does,” Louis assured him. “Yeah, the thought that he _could_ hurt me terrifies me, but that’s basically what love is, right?”

            Zayn shrugged again, and his voice was soft when he spoke.

            “All I know is that, after you went through something traumatic, he was the one you wanted. You wouldn’t answer your phone for you sister, your mum, or your best friends, but you answered for him. He’s the one you felt safest with in that moment, and that means something.”

            “You know it’s not, like, personal that I didn’t answer for anyone else, right?” Louis asked. He was sure Zayn hadn’t meant to make him feel bad with his words, but he still kind of did.

            “I know,” Zayn assured him. “If it was me in that situation, I would have wanted Liam, and Liam only.”

            “Niall’s probably pissed though, huh?” Louis asked, hoping his nerves didn’t show. Of course Niall was mad. Louis was simply trying to get a feel as to the extent, so he could brace himself when he did call his friend.

            “I don’t think he’s mad,” Zayn said. “I think he’s hurt.”

            That, potentially, was worse than Zayn saying that Niall was infuriated with him.

            “Why’s he hurt?” Louis asked, realizing he sounded defensive. He cleared his throat and tried to change his tone. “I mean, _you_ get it.”

            “Yeah, I get it because I’m putting myself in your shoes. All Niall sees is that you’re ignoring him for Harry, which I know isn’t true. You just need to talk to him soon.”

            “I will.”

            “He’ll come around when he realizes you’re happy.”

            Zayn paused and then asked,

            “You _are_ happy, right?”

            “Yeah,” Louis said out of habit. Then, because, to his knowledge, Zayn had never lied to him, he amended, “I definitely need my medication, but I’m happy with my current situation.”

            Of course, Zayn let him know what a bad idea it had been to ever go off his medication in the first place, but he seemed to understand when Louis told him he hadn’t had much choice.

            “At any rate, this guy must be special if you’re writing his initial in a heart,” Zayn said.

            “He is,” Louis said. He was smiling just at the thought of Harry, and how he’d woken to his still-sleeping form that morning. Zayn studied him, grinning, then clapped him on the shoulder and began discussing things he wanted to get done in the shop that day.

            Zayn was right; Louis fell back into his work easily. He was as nervous as he was on his very first day, but his hand remained steady. He made Zayn watch as he pierced someone’s eyebrow and then when he did his first tattoo for months-a simple, small ankle tattoo. Zayn was always supportive and encouraging, but he was even more so that day. He commented multiple times on how ‘sick’ Louis’s work looked and mentioned specific techniques he was using; stating how brilliant Louis’s mind was. He complimented Louis so much that he knew his cheeks had turned pink, but he appreciated it. Zayn was the only one Louis could see himself doing this line of work with.

            The shop had gotten busier since the last time Louis had worked there, and when Louis mentioned that fact, Zayn confided that he was saving money to move to a larger, newer building. Louis couldn’t even describe how proud he felt in the moment-though he thought the moisture in his eyes told it all-but he assured Zayn that he would do whatever he could to make that happen.

            “By the way,” Zayn began then, “I didn’t know if I should say anything because I don’t want to get your hopes up, but one of Liam’s mate’s parents are moving and they’re thinking of renting out their place if you want Liam to put in a word for you.”

            “Really?!” Louis asked, unable to keep from smiling. It was strange how, just a couple of nights ago, he’d reached such a low point that he nearly threw himself from a bridge and now, suddenly, everything seemed to be going right.

            It was kind of scary, in all honesty.

            “Nothing is certain,” Zayn said, appearing leery at Louis’s obvious joy.

            “I know,” Louis said, even though he was doing exactly what Zayn didn’t want and getting his hopes up. “But if it does, it would be awesome if Liam could mention me to them. And Harry.”

            “Of course.”

            Louis’s grin grew, and Zayn gave him a reproachful look, but it only lasted a moment before he laughed.

            “Did you ever think, back when we first met in the institution, that we would get here?”

            “Not even close,” Louis admitted. Even with his relapse the other night, Louis never expected to feel as stable as he did currently.

            Harry stopped by that evening to bring Louis dinner. He brought enough for Zayn to share, and Liam too, if he was there, but Zayn told him that Liam was working all evening and Harry should stay to eat his portion instead. Louis could tell that Harry struggled to say yes, but he did, and suddenly, the butterflies in Louis’s stomach almost made it hard for him to eat. The butterflies turned to worry, though, when he noticed that Harry’s eyes were unusually dark; his smile robotic.

            As they were finishing up their meal, a woman came in for a nose piercing, and since it was Louis’s turn to take a walk-in, Harry decided that it was time for him to leave. Louis gave his client the necessary paper work to fill out and then walked Harry to his car, touching his waist to turn him around before he got into the seat.

            “Are you okay?” Louis asked, tilting his head and closely observing Harry’s body language. The other smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes, which didn’t brighten up even the slightest.

            “I’m fine,” Harry assured Louis, who pursed his lips.

            “You look sad,” Louis noted.

            “What have I got to be sad about?” Harry asked, running his finger along Louis’s jawline before kissing him. He continued, “I’m just tired, babe. It was a long day with community service and still not feeling great. I’m going to go back to the hotel, take a nap until it’s time to get you, and then we can watch a film or do whatever you want to do once we get back.”

            “I still have to see _The Princess Bride,_ ” Louis noted. “I kind of fell asleep the first time.”

            “You’ve seen it before, though, haven’t you?” Harry asked, and when Louis told him he hadn’t, his mouth fell open in shock.

            “No wonder you’re depressed, Lou,” he said, and Louis laughed loudly.

            “Yes, I’m sure that’s the only thing I’m missing in my life; not a healthy level of serotonin or anything.”

            “That film has been scientifically proven to raise serotonin levels,” Harry told him.

            “Oh, has it now?”

            “On the studies I’ve performed on myself, yes.”

            Again, Louis laughed, wrapping both of his arms around Harry’s waist as he stood on his tiptoes to kiss his lips.

            “I’ll see you soon,” he said. “Are you sure you’re good?”

            “Excellent, my love. I’ll be here at nine.”

            “Can’t wait to see you.”

            “I’ll miss you.”

            “Have a lovely nap.”

            “I’ll try my best.”

            Harry kissed Louis once more before gently pulling away from his touch and getting in the car. Louis backed up and waved as Harry drove away, smiling again even though he was still slightly unsettled. He figured that was both a part of his natural characteristics and due to loving someone like Harry, so he pushed the worry from the forefront of his brain and went back inside to wait for nine o’ clock.

            When nine o’ clock rolled around, however, Harry had yet to arrive. Louis didn’t sweat it too much. The man was known for many things but being punctual wasn’t one of them. He and Zayn stood outside the shop, smoking a couple cigarettes each and discussing their favorite works of the day, and when Louis thought to look at his phone again, he was shocked to see that it was twenty after. An unpleasant feeling settled in his gut and chest, and he tried to keep his face neutral, but the look of concern and even sympathy on Zayn’s made that difficult.

            “Maybe he fell asleep,” Louis said, ashamed at how weak his voice sounded.

            “Probably,” Zayn said, blowing his last puff of smoke out before placing the cigarette in the nearby ashtray. “Why don’t you call him and if he’s not close, I’ll just take you back?”

            Louis agreed, telling himself he was being ridiculous for shaking while he took out his phone. He couldn’t pretend he was anything less than ‘crushed’ when Harry didn’t answer.

            _He left,_ Louis thought, but luckily refrained from saying out loud. He didn’t need to anyway. Zayn clearly shared the same thought, though was too nice to point it out.

            “Just send him a text letting him know I’m taking you home,” Zayn suggested, and Louis nodded. He only pretended to send the text, though, because there was no need. Harry didn’t care. Depending on when he left, he could be hours away; Louis being the last of his worries.

            Zayn was quiet in the car. Louis hated it, though it wasn’t that untypical of him. He desperately wanted to make small conversation and talk about something-anything-to try to pretend for a little while longer that he wasn’t about to enter a hotel room filled with only his things, but Louis couldn’t think of anything to say either.

            “Do you want me to come in with you?” Zayn asked when he parked at the hotel. That same expression had remained on his face and Louis shook his head, unable to bear how Zayn would look at him once they both discovered once and for all that Harry had fled.

            “That’s okay. Thanks.”

            “Okay. Call me later, yeah?”

            “Sure.”

            Louis got out of the car, took a breath, and walked in. He was still shaking as he pressed the button to the elevator and had to grab onto the bars once inside so the motion with his shallowed breathing wouldn’t make him dizzy.

            After reaching their hotel suite, Louis stopped and stared at the door for a good few moments, bracing himself. Part of him-a big part-wanted to call Zayn back up and go out with him, and possibly Liam and Niall, to hold off his hurt a little longer. Then he remembered the way Zayn had gazed at him with pity and that desire went down the drain.

            Taking another deep breath, Louis pushed in his key card and opened the door. The room was dark, but Louis closed his eyes for a moment anyway, waiting to hear Harry call out for him and apologize; give him some valid excuse as to why he didn’t come to pick him up. When that didn’t happen, he opened his eyes and flicked on the entryway light.

            He went to the bathroom first. Harry’s toothbrush and shampoo were still in there, which was odd, but Louis figured he probably forgot them in his haste to leave.

            After leaving the bathroom, Louis rounded the corner to the bedroom area. The bit of light from the hall allowed him to see just enough to make it to the nightstand, where he then switched on the bedside lamp and jumped when he saw a figure in the bed. His heart stopped for a moment and then began to race when he realized it was Harry; laying on his side and facing away from Louis, hugging a pillow.           

Louis almost cried from relief. Harry hadn’t left him. The joy only lasted a moment, though, before his worry came back tenfold. Harry was a light sleeper, and surely his phone ringing or the light and noise from Louis entering the bedroom should have woken him.

            “Haz?” Louis asked, though he did so softly. Still, he was alarmed when Harry made no movement.

            “Harry?” Louis said, and he hadn’t meant for his voice to be so quiet that time.

            When Harry still didn’t move or show any sign of life, Louis climbed on the bed next to him, pulling his hair away from his face and breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Harry’s flushed cheeks and heard him breathing.

            Louis didn’t mean to wake him up when he kissed him on the cheek, but Harry’s eyes fluttered open at the contact and he frowned when he saw Louis leaning over him.

            “Wha-?” he asked, his brows pulled together. “What’re you doing here?”

            “Well, I’m kind of living with you right now, you know.”

            “Yeah, but what about work?”

            “Harry, it’s almost ten o’ clock. Zayn drove me here.”

            “It’s what?!”

            Harry sat up so quickly that he almost knocked heads with Louis, then felt around his bed until he found his phone. When he pressed the home button to see that it was, in fact, nearing ten, and that he had a missed call from Louis, he groaned.

            “I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling Louis tight against him. “I didn’t think I would sleep that long, so I didn’t set an alarm, and I forgot I had my phone on silent.”

            “It’s okay,” Louis assured him. “I’m just glad you didn’t run off!”

            Louis said the words teasingly, not wanting Harry to know how much he had almost flipped out earlier at the idea, but he guessed Harry somehow knew because he stuck out his bottom lip before kissing the top of Louis’s head.

            “I’m not running from you again.”

            Louis smiled; not that Harry could see.

            “I’m really sorry,” Harry said again.

            “It’s okay, Haz,” Louis said. “You clearly needed sleep. Are you feeling okay?”

            “Yeah. I…”

            Harry trailed off and didn’t say or do anything for so long that Louis was forced to pull away to look at him. His face was blank, and he looked on the verge of tears.

            “Tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded softly. “If you’re changing your mind about doing this, then I can handle it. Just tell me.”

            Louis wasn’t sure he would be able to ‘handle it’ at all, but he would figure that out when the time came. However, Harry shook his head so fast that it would have made Louis dizzy.

            “No, no; I’m not changing my mind about anything. I want to be with you, it’s just…I don’t deserve you, and I know you always disagree, but it’s not just about what I look like or what I’ve done to you. It’s about what I’m going to keep inadvertently doing to you because I’m so fucking weak.”

            “What do you mean?” Louis asked, almost becoming angry. No relationship was perfect, so Louis knew there was not a slim chance in Hell that he and Harry would ever reach perfection, but if he was already so sure that he was going to hurt Louis more, then was he even going to try and prevent it from happening?

            Harry let out a sob, furiously wiping at his eyes before he spoke, though it was fruitless. The tears came faster with nearly every word and his voice became so thick that Louis almost had trouble understanding him.

            “I didn’t know what my therapist meant before; when they told me I would keep hurting the people I loved as long as I was hurting myself,” Harry began. “I thought they meant that I would keep hurting them directly with the stupid shit I say and d-do, but that’s not what they meant.”

            Harry stopped to take a shaky breath before continuing, and it was painful for Louis to see him like this, but he didn’t dare show it. He’d witnessed Harry crying plenty of times before, and of course he’d heard him talk negatively about himself more than he could count, but he’d never seen him so openly vulnerable.

            “Earlier, b-before I brought you food, I did…I did something bad and I h-hurt myself and you didn’t know, but somehow you could still tell something was wrong and you looked so…so sad and it was my fault, and so when I got back, I went to the gym to run on the treadmill and I loved it because it hurt and it _burned_ and I felt like I was going to have a heart attack, so I ran until the room turned blue and then I stopped. I barely made it to the room and I almost passed out in the shower, but somehow, I made it to the bed. I was so dizzy and still in so much pain and I blacked out and then…Well…and then I didn’t wake up to come get you and you’d thought I left and so I broke your heart all over again.”

            “Harry…,” Louis said, quickly blinking away his own tears. Harry had witnessed him in full meltdown mode and stayed calm more than once during the past few days, so now it was Louis’s turn to remain strong.

            “Babe,” he tried again when words failed him the first time. He tucked a wild strand of hair behind the other man’s ear and then pulled him against him. He didn’t fit as snugly under Louis’s arm as Louis did his, but he hoped it was comforting the other all the same. “I know who you are, Harry, and I know what you do. I also know that you’re trying to change, but it takes time. You can’t just decide to be a new person and magically lose all traces of your old self. I hate that you do those things to yourself, and that does hurt, but that’s just because I love you. Not being with you hurts more than anything. We can get through this together, one step at a time, but you’ve got to be open with me and I’ve got to be open with you. I don’t expect you to be perfect-physically or otherwise. All I need from you is everything you give me without even trying.”

            “What’s that? An ulcer?”

            Louis snorted, rubbing Harry’s shoulder as he replied,

            “Amongst other, better things.”

            “Louis, I’m trying,” Harry said. “What people always say; that you can’t love someone until you love yourself…It isn’t true. Because I’m a fucking idiot but I love you.”

            “That was very poetic, Harry,” Louis commented, but then, more seriously, added, “I know it’s not true because I loved you long before I’d even learned to moderately like myself. I want you to love yourself, and I’m going to try to show you why you should, but in the meantime, I’ll just try to love you enough for two.”

            Harry stayed silent for a few moments.

            “You said it.”

            “Said what?” Louis asked.

            “That you loved me. And you didn’t want to yet and I don’t think I deserved to hear it yet.”

            “What exactly _do_ you think you deserve, Harry?”

            The other’s breath hitched, and Louis thought he was truly thinking about the question, but seemed to be struggling with an answer. Still, Louis waited.

            “I don’t know,” Harry finally admitted.

            “Well, _I_ think you deserve a fresh start. I think you deserve to let go of the mistakes you’ve made and only bring along the lessons you’ve learned from them. You’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to be loved. And you’re allowed to keep making mistakes and moving on. Just because you fall doesn’t mean you hit rock bottom each time. It’s okay to get back up and it’s okay to ask for help.”

            Again, Harry remained quiet for a while. When he spoke, his voice was stronger.

            “Why did I spend so much money on therapists when I could have had you?”

            Louis laughed, but answered,

            “Because unfortunately, my dear, I can’t prescribe medicine.”

            “Such a shame,” Harry said, then, “Hey, Lou?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I hope one day you realize that all of that applies to you too.”

            “We do deserve the fucking world, don’t we?”

            Harry laughed, and Louis’s chest swelled. Sitting up straight, Harry wiped his last remaining tears away and smiled. His eyes were a bit lighter.

            “I’ll try my best to give you the world.”

            “Thanks, but I’m a simple guy, actually. All I need is pizza, a couple of friends, and, maybe, a cute boyfriend and I’m all set.”

            “A cute boyfriend, huh? Any prospects?”

            “Well, you see; I was kind of hoping you were up for the task.”

            “I suppose so, Louis, but I don’t understand. I thought you said a _cute_ boyfriend?”

            “Sorry, I should have said ‘hot as hell.’”

            Harry laughed and shook his head, but he didn’t otherwise argue and laid back down, dramatically throwing one arm over his head as he did so.

            “If you want me, you can have me, even if your logic makes no sense,” he said.

            “The heart wants what it wants, Harry.”

            “I thought you were Dr. Phil, not Selena Gomez?”

             “I have many hidden identities.”

            “That sounds terrifying and exciting all at once.”

            “The best things in life are.”

            Louis leaned over Harry, who awarded him with a kiss.

            “I am honored to be your boyfriend, Dr. Phil Gomez.”

            “The pleasure is all mine. Now, you are probably seriously dehydrated, so I’m going to get you some water. Would you like something to eat?”

            “Not yet, but I will soon,” Harry said, and Louis nodded as he got off the bed.

            “See if you can find _The Princess Bride_ and I’ll be back in a minute.”

            “We don’t have to watch that,” Harry said. “You might not like it.”

            “I won’t know until I see it.”

            “Why don’t we watch something you want to watch?”

            “I want to watch that.”

            Harry sighed.

            “Fine, but don’t judge me when you hate it.”

            “I am already judging you, don’t worry.”

            “What an arse.”

            “I still love you, though!”

            “Uh-huh,” Harry grumbled, though as Louis neared the kitchen, he heard him say softly,

            “I love you too.”

***Harry***

            _“How are you so amazing at the piano, even with a broken wrist?”_

_Louis smiled in that genuinely delighted way he did whenever Harry complimented him. It was almost as if he’d never received a compliment before Harry came along, but he knew that wasn’t true. Duke told Louis how gorgeous and wonderful he was all the time._

_“I had lots of broken bones as a kid,” Louis explained as he continued to play a medley he’d just made in his head, and when Harry looked at him, both curious and concerned, he smiled, sparing a quick glance to his friend. “I was into sports, but not very good at them,” he explained._

_“Ah,” Harry said. He took a drink from the wine bottle they had sitting atop the piano. Louis played a few more keys and then stopped, turning to Harry._

_“Are you done for the day?” he asked._

_“Yeah. My voice is worn out and my brain is malfunctioning.”_

_Harry didn’t mention that his brain ‘malfunctioned’ quite often when he was so close to Louis. He wondered if the other knew their knees were touching._

_“I should be going soon anyway,” Louis said after glancing at the clock on the wall. “Duke will be home shortly.”_

_“I’d say have him join us, but I’m supposed to go to dinner with my sister this evening.”_

_Louis raised an eyebrow._

_“You’re going to dinner?”_

_“Gemma tries her best to keep me healthy.”_

_“Sisters are good for that.”_

_Louis stood from the piano bench, so Harry did as well. Wordlessly, they walked to the front door. Through the window, Harry could see Gemma just pulling up._

_“Eat **something** for dinner, okay?” Louis asked of Harry as he gave him a kiss on the cheek, the pinky of his good hand briefly touching Harry’s. “And please don’t make yourself throw it up.”_

_“No promises,” Harry said with an ornery smile, but when Louis looked at him sadly, he said,_

_“Okay, fine. Just a little.”_

_Louis smiled, and then took it upon himself to open the front door for Gemma._

_“Hey, Louis!” she said, trying her best to be friendly but looking at Harry suspiciously._

_“Hi, Gemma!” Louis returned, either not noticing or pretending not to see her curiosity._

_“What happened to your wrist?” the woman asked._

_“I went bowling with Duke a couple nights ago and completely bit it,” Louis said, and then laughed. “They don’t come much clumsier than me.”_

_“Ouch!” Gemma sympathized. Louis shrugged._

_“Could have been worse,” he said. “I could have dropped the ball on me foot or something.”_

_“I suppose that is true.”_

_Louis gave the woman a smile before turning one on Harry._

_“See you both later!”_

_The siblings said their goodbye and watched Louis get into his car._

_“He’s driving with a broken wrist?” Gemma asked._

_“I told him it was a bad idea,” Harry said. Gemma kept looking out the window until Louis’s car was out of sight, then she trained her eyes on her brother._

_“What’s going on with Louis, Harry?”_

_“Nothing,” Harry said honestly. “He helps me with my music and that’s it.”_

_“You know he’s married.”_

_“Yes, I am quite aware of that unfortunate fact.”_

_Gemma narrowed her eyes. Harry threw up his hands defensively._

_“Nothing’s going on!” he said._

_“He’s here **a lot** ,” she pointed out, as if that made them guilty of something._

_“He has depression,” Harry told her. “It’s probably hard for him to be alone. Duke’s always at work or with friends. Why can’t he hang out with a platonic mate too?”_

_“The way you look at him isn’t platonic.”_

_“Gem,” Harry laughed, rolling his eyes. “Even if Hell froze over and Louis wanted me, I couldn’t do it. If I have an affair with a married man, it’s going to be one that I’m okay with letting go once he regrets his decision and goes back to his spouse.”_

_“Are you sure his feelings are platonic?”_

_“Duke is built, hot, rich, and stable. Louis married the exact opposite of me so yeah, I’m pretty sure.”_

_Harry had already known these things but saying them out loud hurt more than thinking them in his head. His chest felt tight and suddenly he wanted to down the rest of the wine that was left upstairs on the piano, and maybe an extra bottle or two as well._

_“Can we go?” he asked his sister before she could say anything else. “I need a drink.”_

_Gemma rolled her eyes, flinging her hair over her shoulder. She looked as if she was changing her mind about the whole ‘dinner’ thing, but that would be alright. It would save Harry from eating and then he could have some pills to go with his wine._

_Harry felt like a terrible brother for being disappointed when she said,_

_“Yeah, let’s go.”_

 

            “Harry…Harry, hey…Harry…Earth to Harry… _Harry!”_

            Harry jumped when Louis touched his shoulder, causing Louis to jump as well.

            “Sorry,” he said. “It looked like you were about to crash and given that you were just in a mini-coma, I want to be sure you’re okay before you pass out.”

            “I’m good,” Harry said, offering the best smile he could muster to Louis. “I was just thinking.”

            “About what?”

            “You.”

            “Good things?”

            “Well…”

            “Uh-oh.”

            “I was just wondering…That time you broke your wrist, did you really fall bowling? And that time you came over all beat up, was it really some homophobic dick that did it?”

            “No,” Louis admitted, and Harry supposed he’d already known that, but the confirmation made his chest hurt anyway.

            “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “I’m not judging, babe, of course, but if you liked me, why did you stay with him?”

            “I didn’t think you would ever want me,” Louis said with a small laugh, even though it wasn’t at all funny. “You were always with someone new, and all of them were better than me, or so I thought then. You can make _anyone_ fall in love with you, so I couldn’t fathom you ever choosing me.”

            “That’s depressing,” Harry said, then added, “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone’s ever actually been in love with me.”

            “Except me.”

            Harry smiled, causing Louis’s eyes to light up.

            “Except you,” he agreed, without adding that he still didn’t understand why. Louis kissed him, and it was only afterward that Harry averted his eyes to the TV, if only because it was hard to control himself when Louis was looking at him like he was the best gift in the world.

            “You don’t like the film, do you?” he asked after realizing that it was paused.

            “I do, but I didn’t want to talk during your favorite movie. Thought you might kill me.”

            “I might’ve,” Harry teased. “Tell me the truth, though; do you hate it?”

            “No, I don’t hate it. I might not understand why it’s your _favorite_ , but it’s not bad. I think I’m gonna have that bishop guy with the speech impediment officiate my wedding.”

            “That’s a brilliant idea, if I’m being honest.”

            “You think?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Good. I wuv woo, Ha-wwy.”

            “I wuv woo too, Wouis.”

            Both men laughed at themselves and then Harry kissed Louis.

            “We can start the movie again in a minute. I have to pee.”

            “That sounds delightful. Enjoy yourself.”

            “I’m terrified to get out of bed.”

            “Why?” Louis asked, looking concerned.

            “I ran five miles. The last time I ran was…I don’t even know.”

            “When you were trying to keep me from falling to my demise.”

            “That wasn’t me. That was some adrenaline-fueled superhuman that took my place momentarily.”

            Louis smiled, looking sheepish.

            “Well, I have always had a thing for Superman.”

            “Don’t tell me that. Now I have to get a six pack.”

            “Maybe I just like Superman for his personality. Ever think of that?”

            “Right,” Harry said, snorting. He leaned over to give Louis another kiss before slowly getting out of bed, groaning as his legs protested. His head spun, but he made sure not to show it.

            “Would you like me to carry you?” Louis asked, an amused, though not unsympathetic, look on his face.

            “Nope. I’ve got this,” Harry assured him, although he wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that he wouldn’t collapse at any second. Luckily, he made it to the bathroom without losing consciousness or his legs giving out. He was tempted to sit while relieving his bladder but couldn’t trust that he would be able to stand again if he did.

            “Yay, you made it. I missed you,” Louis commented with a smile when Harry rejoined him on the bed. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, smiling as they broke apart. Harry had to return the grin, but then he collapsed onto his stomach next to the other with a sigh.  

            “I think you had a good idea with the whole ‘gym’ thing,” Louis said as he rubbed Harry’s back. “Maybe just start off slow, though. It probably isn’t best to go from barely eating with virtually no exercise to running five miles.”

            “Probably not,” Harry agreed, not mentioning that he’d done it because of the fact that it was a bad idea.

            “Maybe we can join a gym together,” Louis suggested. “I need to get my arse back in shape.”

            “I like your arse no matter what the shape.”

            “Yeah, well…Exercise is good for depression and all that, isn’t it? That’s what my therapist liked to say.”

            “Could be. I don’t know,” Harry admitted, rolling onto his back after Louis stopped rubbing it and feeling his heart flutter when he saw the other man looking at him softly. That had to be the reason his heart skipped, of course, and not that it was probably struggling from all the abuse he’d put it through. “I’ve never exercised a day in my life until today.”

            Louis smiled.

            “You know what else we should do?”

            “What’s that?”

            “Go on a date. We’re calling ourselves boyfriends now and we’ve never even been on a proper date.”

            “I’ll take you on a date,” Harry said immediately. “When are you off work?”

            “If my schedule stays the same as last time I worked there, I’ll be off on Monday.”

            “I guess we have a date on Monday, then,” Harry said, glad that he had a couple days to plan. Louis deserved only the best.

            “Can’t wait,” Louis said. Harry grinned, his heart fluttering again at the happiness in Louis’s voice, and he stroked the other’s cheek before dropping his hand back to the bed, his eyelids growing heavy.

            “Alright, turn the film back on,” he slurred, as if he were drunk. “You’ve got to finish watching it before I pass out again.”

            “Okay, but first…Can I ask how exactly you hurt yourself earlier?”

            “I told you that you can ask me anything, but I would rather not say,” Harry told his boyfriend, feeling as though Louis would get the urge to run a blade across his wrist again if he knew Harry had taken one to his leg. “Just know that I’ll try my hardest not to do it again.”

            “Okay,” Louis said, sounding unsure. Harry’s eyes were closed, but he felt Louis continue to stare at him for a few moments before he asked,

            “If I order some pita and hummus from room service, will you share with me?”

            “Sure,” Harry agreed, because even though he was embracing the fact that his stomach was writhing with hunger, he also knew his blood sugar had to be at a dangerously low level. Besides, he was going to do his best to keep true in his promise not to hurt himself, if only to see Louis’s smile more.

            “Aces,” Louis said, notably trying to hide his relief, and he picked up the phone.

            After eating, Harry lost the feeling as if he were going to faint, which also likely meant that he wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep that night. Louis, somehow, seemed wired too, and after finishing the movie, he climbed on top of Harry, straddling him. Harry’s legs screamed at the touch, but even though Harry physically made no sound, Louis must have noticed because his eyes widened in horror and he quickly got off.

            “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m stupid.”

            “No, come here,” Harry asked, pulling on Louis’s hips to get him back in position. Louis looked at him worriedly, but Harry only smiled. “I like having you there.”

            Louis gave Harry an unsure look, but instead of questioning him about it, he shook his head and said,

            “I forgot to tell you the potentially good news Zayn gave me today.”

            “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

            “He said that Liam knows someone whose parents are moving and that they _might_ rent their current flat out when they do. It’s not a guaranteed thing, so he said not to get our hopes up, but if it happens, then Liam will put in a good word for us.”

            “Lou, that’s amazing,” Harry said, a wide smile cracking across his face. He liked the hotel they were staying in because he thought he would probably like any place in which he was with Louis, but the child in Harry still longed to live in a home with a family that loved him. If that family only consisted of one person, so be it. One person that was truly on his side was all he needed and more than he’d ever had before.

            “It might not pull through, Haz, so don’t hold me to that,” Louis warned.

            “I won’t,” he promised.

            “Are you sure you want to actually live with me, though?” Louis questioned. “If you say no, it’s fine. We just literally entered our romantic relationship today and that’s quite quick to move in with someone.”

            Louis gave a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair before continuing.

            “If the only reason you said that was to keep me from leaping off a bridge, I’ll be okay. It was a fleeting thought and I don’t have those feelings anymore. If you want to take things slow…”

            “I’m not the type to take things slow, or go by the book, for that matter,” Harry said when Louis seemed to struggle with his words. “I want to live with you, Lou, as long as you want to live with me.”

            “Of course,” Louis said. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I like falling asleep next to you and waking up with you.”

            “I like that too,” Harry said. Then, he changed the subject.

            “Can we go on a drive?”

            “Sure, but do you think you can drive? Didn’t you just struggle enough walking to the toilet?” Louis asked, frowning.

            “I feel better now that I’ve eaten and had some water,” Harry said truthfully. “I’ll be okay. Please. I want to take you somewhere.”

            “Okay,” Louis said, getting off Harry and putting his shoes on. Harry did likewise and then held Louis’s hand on their way to the elevator, as well as inside of the elevator and all the way to the car.

            “Where are we going?”

            “Villains Tavern.”

            Villains Tavern was a bar that Harry had performed in a few times. He’d grown close to one of the managers and a few of the regulars, though he hadn’t talked to any of them in a while. After his vocal cord injury, he’d received and ignored many messages and calls from the manager telling him to let him know when he was ready to give the singing thing a try again because he always had a gig with them. Harry knew he couldn’t take him up on the offer, though. They’d been genuinely impressed with his voice, and he wouldn’t be able to bear seeing the disappointed looks on their faces and hearing their false assurances that he sounded just the same as he did before.

            “Any particular reason why?” Louis asked.

            “I’ll tell you when we get there,” Harry said.

            “Alright,” Louis said, giving Harry a small smile and humming as he turned on the radio. Louis was such a go with the flow guy, always up for doing whatever would make someone else happy, and that was one of the many things Harry loved about him.

***Louis***

            _Louis was the only one at Harry’s show that night. Gemma had been planning to go, but she’d had a date earlier in the evening which was apparently going well, because she texted Harry while he and Louis were on the way and told him that she and her date were going to go back to his place for a little bit._

_Harry didn’t say as much, but Louis thought he was at least a little disappointed, so he decided that he was simply going to have to up his support and enthusiasm that night._

_Duke was out of town on a ‘business trip.’ He had ‘business trips’ quite often, and Louis wasn’t so stupid as to not be aware that he wanted to go out of town with the pretty woman on his team who called him multiple times a day and could be heard laughing over the phone when Louis was way on the other side of the room. Louis wondered if she even knew he existed._

_At first, the knowledge of what Duke was doing hurt, and Louis supposed it still did, but he was almost relieved when he would go on his trips because that meant he would have a night or two without being told he was lazy or stupid. He could embrace not being hit and forced to have sex._

_It meant he could spend all the time he wanted with Harry._

_Harry snorted a line of cocaine off his own hand in the back of the cab before they pulled up to the bar. It always made Louis nervous when he did things like that, but most of the time, the drivers barely even spared a glance to the back. It was Los Angeles, after all, Louis supposed. Harry didn’t offer Louis any until they reached the bar, but Louis politely declined. Harry didn’t think much of it because he knew Louis wasn’t nearly as into using as he was, and instead, he bought him a drink. Knowing that Louis didn’t have money, he also bought him a meal after he’d noticed Louis eyeballing someone else’s burger. Louis hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it and was a bit embarrassed, but Harry told him it was alright; that he was paying him back just by being there._

_The stage was outside, so Louis and Harry went back and forth between watching the first act and going to get drinks._

_At one point, a man came out from the back and smiled when he saw Harry at the bar. He nodded as he walked over._

_“Hey, Harry!” he greeted. “I’m so glad you’re performing tonight. This first act is awful.”_

_“They’re not that bad,” Harry said, and Louis didn’t think they were terrible either, but they didn’t have anything on Harry._

_“You’re clearly intoxicated then,” the man laughed, and then asked, “So who’s the boy?”_

_“This is Louis,” Harry said, touching Louis’s back gently as he gave him a smile. “Louis, this is Cam. He’s one of the managers.”_

_“Nice to meet you,” Louis said, shaking Cam’s hand._

_“You too, Louis,” Cam said, a wide smile on his face. “It’s about time Harry’s here with a nice guy who can still stand by nine thirty in the evening.”_

_Harry laughed, but shook his head._

_“Watch it, Cam,” he warned. “He’s not mine, unfortunately. He’s married.”_

_Harry took Louis’s hand to show the manager of the bar his wedding ring._

_“Ah. Sorry, guys.”_

_“No harm done,” Louis assured him as Harry let go of his hand. He didn’t say so, of course, but he was quite sorry about the fact that he wasn’t Harry’s too._

_“At any rate, I’m glad you both are here. Your next drinks are on the house, so what’ll it be?”_

_The two put in their orders-Louis tried to decline the free drink but neither Harry or Cam would let him-and went back outside to watch the last couple of songs from what Louis considered the warm-up band. Harry barely had time to finish his drink before going on, and Louis was quite worried, as he’d began to hiccup only halfway through, but, of course, he sounded amazing._

_Louis didn’t think the alcohol was the only thing keeping him so warm that night._

_“Alright, this last song is something I just threw together today. I probably shouldn’t end on it, in case it’s a disaster, but I suddenly really want to perform it, so if you have any tomatoes, please refrain from throwing them until the song is finished. I would greatly appreciate it.”_

_There was laughter all around, and Louis smiled too, though knew that if someone threw anything at Harry, they would have to face him._

_“Alright,” Harry said again, seemingly to himself, and noticeably cleared his throat as he walked to the keyboard. From the very first note, Louis’s heart was broken. The song had such a slow, beautiful, devastating sound, and Harry bit the inside of his lip while playing it. There was a slight pause before he started singing, during which he took a deep, seemingly shaky breath, but when he opened his mouth, his voice was strong and, like always, beautiful._

_“ **If I could find assurance to leave you behind,  I know my better half would fade…And all my doubt is a staircase for you…Opened out of this space…The first step is the one you believe in…The second one might be profound…”**_

**** _Expertly, Harry turned away from the keyboard and grabbed his guitar as the chorus hit, even though there was less than a second between the last line of the verse and the first of the chorus. At the same time, he began tapping on his foot pedal to create the sound of drums. Louis was in awe._

_**“I’ll follow you down through the eye of the storm…Don’t worry I’ll keep you warm…I’ll follow you down while we’re passing through space…I don’t care if we fall from grace…I’ll follow you down…”**_

**** _Harry looked at Louis and gave the half-smile he was notorious for during live performances and which absolutely killed Louis until it was time for him to sing again._

_**“You can have the money and the world…The angels and the pearls…Even trademark the color blue…Just like the tower we never built…In the shadow of all the guilt…When the other hand was pointed at you…Yeah the first step is the one you believe in and the second one might be profound…”**_

**** _As Harry hit the chorus again, Louis heard the calls of excitement and pleasure, and his heart soared. Harry didn’t let it distract him for even a second, but his voice shook just slightly when he reached the final chorus, as if the emotion were getting to him. He still sounded amazing though, and Louis found that he had to blink back tears himself._

_**“I’ll follow you down to where forever lies…Without a doubt I’m on your side…There’s nowhere else that I would rather be…I’m not about to compromise…Give you up to say goodbye…I’ll guide you through the deep…I’ll keep you close to me…”**_

**** _Louis couldn’t deny the fact that he felt a pang of jealousy. Harry always sang from the heart and the fact that he wrote this today meant there was someone on his mind and in his heart; someone he hadn’t even mentioned to Louis. Still, he kept a brave, supportive smile on his face as Harry sang the chorus one last time and ended the last few lines back at the keyboard._

_**“If I could find assurance to leave you behind, I know my better half would fade…I’ll follow you down…”**_

**** _Cheers and whistles sounded throughout the whole space, and Harry looked around, appearing to be in shock. Finally, when he met eyes with Louis, he smiled and ran off the stage, collapsing into his waiting arms._

_“That was amazing, Harry,” Louis said, holding the man tighter when he realized he was shaking. “All of it was, but that last song…You really just wrote that today?”_

_“Yeah, right before you came over. I only practiced it once all the way through.”_

_“You are…You’re indescribable, Harry. You really are, in the best way.”_

_Harry smiled, and then was forced to turn away from Louis as other patrons came up to give their congratulations. Louis pretended his heart wasn’t still breaking._

_He spent the night with Harry, as he usually did when Duke was out of town. They never went farther than they should; didn’t even sleep in the same room, and Louis squeezed his eyes shut from his spot in the guest bed and pretended he didn’t hear Harry sniffling from the main room. He couldn’t go ask him what was wrong and properly comfort him when he was crying too._

“Are you having a drink, even on your antibiotic?” Harry asked Louis as he held the door to the bar open and allowed him to enter first.

            “Um, maybe just one,” Louis said, and Harry put his arm around his boyfriend’s waist to lead him to the bar, where he ordered their usual.

            “Thank you,” Harry said when the bartender gave him his drink and then, as he slid her a five dollar tip, he asked, “Is Cam working tonight?”

            “Yeah, he is,” the bartender said. “Would you like to speak with him?”

            “Please,” Harry asked politely.

            “Sure, just a sec.”

            “Take your time.”

            The woman finished up another patron’s drink and then told Harry she would be right back as she hurried off. Moments later, she returned, quickly followed by Cam, who smiled widely when he saw Harry and ran around the bar to give him a hug.

            “Holy shit! Harry, bro, it’s so nice to see you!”

            “Hey, Cam,” Harry said, smiling as he returned the hug and then pulled away. “Sorry I’ve been a shit friend and not returned any of your texts or calls for, like, years.”

            “It’s okay, man. You were going through some shit. I get it,” Cam said, shrugging it off that easily. “I’m glad you’re back, though. Are you going to sing for us anytime soon?”

            Harry laughed and then took a long drink in lieu of answering. Not pushing him, Cam smiled and then turned to Louis.

            “Hey, Louis! It’s good to see you again too! How are you?”

            “Good, mate, thanks,” Louis said, following along with the weird fist/chest bump thing that straight California men seemed to like to do.

            “Cam, guess what?” Harry said.

            “What?” Cam returned.

            “He’s not married anymore!” Harry said, lifting Louis’s hand to show off his ringless finger. Cam smiled, glancing between the two.

            “Are we both happy about that?” he asked.

            “Yes,” Louis and Harry answered at the same time, and then Harry added,

            “He’s mine now.”

            Cam smiled widely, as if that was one of the best pieces of news he could have ever received.

            “That’s awesome, man! Congratulations! I knew you two looked too cute together to not be a couple! Drinks on the house in celebration!”

            Louis and Harry laughed, but Harry said,

            “Louis can have another, but I have to stop at one. Thanks, mate, but I’m driving.”

            “Oh…,” Cam said, rubbing his chin as he thought. He clapped his hands together when he reached a conclusion.

            “Weed on the house!” he said quieter, but just as enthusiastically. “You can take it to go.”

            Harry laughed again.

            “Thanks, but I can’t do that either. I got in a bit of trouble and have to go for drug testing.”

            “Well, shit, Harry, you don’t eat, so what am I supposed to give you now?”

            “I’ll let you know when I think of something,” Harry assured him.

            “Fine,” Cam said, “but I’m getting Louis a drink. What do you have, Louis?”

            After Louis was given his second drink, he took both of his glasses outside as Harry carried his one. They sat at a table as close to the stage as they could.  The singer was a woman who seemed to be in her middle or late twenties, who had quite an exceptional voice. Louis and Harry sipped on their drinks as they listened, thoroughly enjoying her music.

            “I’m going to the toilet,” Harry announced once he’d finished with his beverage. “I’ll be right back.”

            “Okay, love,” Louis said, smiling as he watched Harry walk away. He still wasn’t quite sure what they were doing there, unless Harry had just really wanted to see Cam, but he wasn’t complaining, even if it was a bit chilly out. He was shaking by the time Harry returned to him.

            “Cold?” Harry asked, knowing Louis all too well.

            “It’s a bit nippy out here,” Louis said, and without a second thought, Harry took off his jacket and held it out for Louis to take.

            “No, then you’ll be cold,” Louis protested.

            “I won’t. I’m a bit hot, actually,” Harry said.

            “How are you hot?! I know I run cold, Harry, but it’s, like, fifty-five degrees out here.”

            “I’m nervous,” Harry said, smiling sheepishly. Louis frowned.

            “What’re you nervous for?”

            “Because I’m going up to sing something,” Harry explained as he took it upon himself to drape his jacket over Louis’s shoulders. Louis pulled it tighter to his body while feeling as if he were smiling like a manic clown.

            “Really?!”

            “Yeah, if I don’t faint or get sick first.”

            “You’ll do fine, Haz,” Louis assured him. “You’re a natural.”

            “A natural disaster, maybe. Like a tornado that’s about to make people seek shelter immediately.”

            “Or a fire because you’re about to light the place up.”

            Harry laughed, shaking his head at Louis.

            “Always so supportive.”

            “Yes, but it’s more than that,” Louis told him, but didn’t have time to elaborate because the lady singer finished her set and his voice would have been drowned out from the cheers anyway. Only a few moments, Cam took to the stage.

            “Alright, everyone, give it up for Tara Simmons!”

            Cheers and claps filled the place again, Louis and Harry joining along, and when they quieted down, Cam continued.

            “We have one more act tonight, and some of you may know him. He used to sing here almost every other week and it’s been a hot minute since he’s graced us with his gifts, but he’s back tonight! Everyone give it up for Harry Styles!”

            There were claps and a couple of yells from people who must have seen Harry perform before. Harry looked petrified, so Louis gave his hand a quick squeeze.

            “You’ll do great, babe.”

            Harry smiled-or tried to, at least-and then walked to the stage, where Cam handed him his own guitar to borrow. Harry adjusted the microphone to his level and then coughed into his arm before starting.

            “Um…Hey, everyone…I’ll try to make this quick, but it’s about to get real cheesy in here, so bear with me…”

            There were a couple of intrigued laughs, but other than that, the place was silent. Harry cleared his throat.

            “I performed this song a few years ago when I was here with my friend, who was I was deeply in love with but who was, at the time, married. I wrote it for him the day I was planning on confessing my feelings and asking him to leave his husband, but, well, I chickened out. We had a huge falling out over an even bigger misunderstanding shortly after that, and I’ve said and done a lot of things I shouldn’t have in the meantime, but, somehow, we’ve overcome that and today, I was blessed with the honor of finally being able to call him my boyfriend.”

            People ‘awed,’ clapped and even whistled, and Harry gave a nervous chuckle before continuing.

            “Lou, I know I’ve already told you, but I’m sorry for everything. I know you’ve forgiven me already, but I still want to make it up to you. I don’t quite know how, but let me start with this.”

            Louis was crying before Harry had even begun to sing, but the tears just came even faster as Harry performed an acoustic version of the song he’d sang those years ago. In his mental state of the time, Louis had assumed it was for someone else, but now that he was listening to it again, it was obvious who it was for. _Him_. Harry had written a song for him, performed it for him. Louis didn’t understand how he’d inspired something so beautiful. He couldn’t fathom going from a relationship where he was constantly put down and abused to one where his lover wrote romantic songs for him, but as crazy as it felt, this was his life. For the first time, he was truly and completely glad that none of his attempts to end it had succeeded. He’d asked God or whatever higher power may have been listening _why_ several times before, and he felt as if he were finally getting his answer.

            The room was buzzing when Harry finished up, and Louis barely saw his boyfriend rushing for him before he was being pulled against him, both of their hearts beating erratically as they held each other.

            “Fuck you, Harry Styles,” Louis said with a watery laugh. “You’re too good at making me cry.”

            “Are they good tears this time, at least?” Harry asked, kissing the top of Louis’s head.

            “The best,” Louis told him.

            “ _You’re_ the best,” Harry whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard over the still-roaring crowd. “You deserve everything.”

            “Right now, I feel like I have everything,” Louis assured him. Cheesy or not, it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyrics I had in here are from 'I'll Follow You' by Shinedown. My brother obviously did not write that song, but he won't give me the lyrics to the song he did write, so I used their wedding song instead since I included a line for the title of the fic.
> 
> My brother's favorite movie, however, is 'The Princess Bride' and between his husband and siblings, he has forced us to watch it with him twenty-seven times and he will probably make us watch it again after he reads this chapter. Send help.


	21. Chapter 21

***Louis***

Louis almost forgot that he and Harry were in public as he stood, enveloped in Harry’s arms with his head thrush against the place where Harry’s heartbeat was. Now that the initial nerves of his performance were gone, Harry was no longer hot and Louis could feel him shivering. He pulled the other man even closer, as if his small, cold body would do anything to help him out, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because a moment later, Harry was being turned around by another bar-goer, who gave him a one-armed hug and told him how amazing he did. A slew of others lined up to give their compliments, and even though Harry smiled and thanked them all, he seemed uneasy. At the first opportunity, he took Louis’s hand and nodded, silently asking if they could go. Wordlessly, Louis picked Harry’s jacket that had fallen on the ground up and hurried out, keeping their hands laced together.

            “How did it feel; singing in public again?” Louis asked after a couple minutes of riding along in silence. It was nice, he thought, that he and Harry had reached the point again where they didn’t have to force fake conversation to drown out the awkwardness. There was no uneasiness in simply sitting in each other’s company, just like it had been in the old times.

            “It was nice, I guess. Good to get some closure,” Harry answered, keeping his eyes focused on the road.

            “Closure?” Louis said, hoping Harry would elaborate. However, he only gave a nod as a response, so Louis asked, “You’re not going to do it again?”

            “Nah, I don’t think so.”

            “You _did_ sound great, Harry. All those people weren’t lying to you.”

            “I may have sounded okay for a bar setting. I may even be a good karaoke singer, but it’s not the same. People used to tell me I should be famous, and they meant it. It’s more than that, though. Singing is hard now. That used to be the one thing that came effortlessly; that I didn’t have to kill myself for. It’s not really fun anymore.”

            Louis felt his own bottom lip stick out, but pulled it back in quickly and then took Harry’s hand.

            “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, no words seeming adequate for what Harry had just shared with him.

            “‘S okay,” Harry said. “Not your fault.”

            “I know. I’m still sorry though.”

            Louis didn’t understand the small smile that touched Harry’s lips then. It was fleeting, and he didn’t even know if Harry had been aware of its presence, but it had undeniably been there, and when it left, Harry kissed the top of Louis’s hand.

            They continued to ride in silence.

 

            “Do you think you’ll able to sleep now?” Louis asked when the pair had reached their hotel room again. He hadn’t felt too bad at the bar or even on the way back, but now he was so tired that he could barely see straight. Still, he didn’t like leaving Harry to lie awake, alone with his thoughts.

            “Probably not,” Harry said, then added, “You need to go to sleep, though, love. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

            “I’m fine,” Louis lied.

            “Uh-huh,” Harry replied, not falling for it a bit. Stepping forward, he scooped Louis up and carried him like a bride to the bed, where he gently laid him down and slowly took his shoes off for him. After they had been laid to the side, he ran his hand up Louis’s leg and rested one on the button of his jeans.

            “May I?” he asked.

            “Certainly,” Louis told him. “Just to clarify, what are we doing?”

            “You’re going to sleep,” Harry said.

            “But I don’t want to sleep if you’re not sleeping. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

            Harry smiled, leaning forward to kiss Louis while he unbuttoned his pants. Louis lifted his hips and wiggled just enough to help Harry slide them down his legs and off from around his feet.

            “I won’t be lonely,” he assured the other as he helped him remove his shirt next. “You’re still here.”

            After Louis was laying there, shivering slightly in only his boxers, Harry began sifting through his boyfriend’s luggage until he found a large sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, which he then put on Louis himself.

            “It’s cute that you asked permission before taking off my pants,” Louis told Harry once he was in his pajamas and Harry laid next to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before his head hit the pillow.

            “I find it a bit sad that you think it’s cute I asked permission before just taking your clothes off,” Harry commented. Louis shrugged as best he could while laying down, then turned on his side so that he could more comfortably face Harry.

            “No one ever has before.”

            Harry’s eyes clouded over and he chewed the inside of his cheek as he ran a finger along Louis’s jawline.

            “The world doesn’t deserve you,” he commented softly, almost as if he were saying it only to himself.

            “That’s a bit dramatic,” Louis said, though the words had made him feel warm inside anyway.

            “Well, you’re not the only one with a flare for the dramatics, you know,” Harry said with a teasing smile. Louis grinned and Harry spent a few moments studying what seemed to be every detail of his face before pulling him closer.

            “Has he contacted you?” Louis asked after a few moments of silence. He didn’t have to clarify that he’d meant their mutual ex.

            “He has,” Harry admitted after a beat. “All I told him is that I’m not going back-that I have a new home.”

            “What did he say to that?”

            “I don’t know. I delete his texts and voice mails without reading them or listening to them.”

            Louis didn’t know whether that was the truth or not, but he hoped so. He wasn’t afraid any longer that Harry would run, but he was still so vulnerable, and it wouldn’t take much to send him spiraling down the deep hole of self-doubt that he was only just starting to climb out of.

            “I’m sorry I let you go through that, Harry.”

            “What in the bloody hell are you talking about?”

            Harry’s voice remained soft, but the words were condescending nonetheless. Louis didn’t take offense. He explained,

            “I was too scared and selfish to tell you what really happened between he and I for a long time. You were with him and I was constantly terrified that he was hurting you, but I told myself that he wouldn’t do that to you; that I was the problem, but I should have known better. I knew how bad he could get and how easily he could make it seem like everything was okay to everyone else, and I still did nothing.”

            “You didn’t make me stay, Lou. I did that to myself, and, honestly, I should have put the pieces together the first time he became violent, but I didn’t want to admit that I fell for the wrong person again. Even if you’d told me the truth, I wouldn’t have believed you because I didn’t want to. Besides, the way I treated you, _you_ should have punched me in the face.”

            Louis laughed, his eyes growing heavy.

            “Won’t ever do that,” he said.

            “I know,” Harry told him, and kissed his forehead. “Go to sleep, Lou. We’re moving on from the past, remember?”

            “I know. Just had to tell you once.”

            “You have nothing to apologize for, but if you did, I forgive you anyway.”

            Louis yawned. He even thought he drifted off for a second before remembering to say,

            “Thank you.”

            He fell asleep before Harry could finish his ‘I love you.’

            Sometime during the night, Louis woke as Harry pulled him closer to his body. Louis must have rolled over at some point because his back was pressed against Harry’s front, and he giggled when Harry nuzzled against the back of his neck, tickling him with his hair.

            “Sorry,” Harry whispered, his voice thick. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

            “Is everything okay?” Louis asked, his warm internal feeling vanishing at the thickness of Harry’s voice.

            “Bad dream. I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

            “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

            “What was it about?” Louis asked anyway.

            “A few nights ago,” Harry replied after a brief hesitation.

            “What happened a few nights ago?” Louis asked, straining his memory; feeling as if he should know what Harry was talking about.

            “The bridge,” Harry said, even softer.

            “Oh,” Louis said, feeling guilty, even though he knew that had been the exact thing Harry was trying to avoid when he was reluctant to tell him about his nightmare at all. “I’m really sorry that I traumatized you, Harry, but I truly am okay. I was delirious and in shock…I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

            “I know,” Harry claimed. “It’s just that, in my nightmare it was a different ending, and then I got to thinking…That was a few days ago. If you’d done it…Shit, what if your funeral was today?”

            “Well, it’s not.”

            “I know, but what if I never got to tell you how I really feel about you, and prove it? What if you’d died not knowing that I loved you?”

            “I didn’t.”

            “I know, and I’m not trying to be negative or focus on the what ifs. It’s just…having you here seems so surreal that I almost wonder if you did jump and this is my brain’s way of coping with it.”

            Louis laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around him tighter.

            “Pretty sure I’m really here, Harry,” he told the other. “I know ghosts don’t typically know they’re ghosts, but I don’t think that’s what happening in this case.”

            “You think I’m ridiculous,” Harry accused, though he gave a small laugh as well.

            “No,” Louis disagreed. “I think you’re not used to being happy or having things go your way, so it’s easier for you to conclude that I’m a ghost or a figment of your imagination.”

            “Yeah, that could be it too.”

            “I’m here, babe,” Louis said, placing his hand over the one of Harry’s that was rested on his chest. He wondered if Harry was trying to feel his heart beat. “I’m here and I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.”

            “Okay,” Harry said. “Sorry I woke you up.”

            “At least having a nightmare meant that you fell asleep at some point, eh?” Louis asked, trying to look on the positive side. Harry blew air out of his nose in the form of a laugh and kissed the back of Louis’s neck.

            “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll go with that.”

            “What can I do to help you sleep?” Louis asked, all the while yawning himself.

            “Just go back to sleep,” Harry said. “Your breathing relaxes me.”

            “That sounds like a load of shit.”

            “No, I’m serious,” Harry claimed. “I love you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

            Louis tried to stay awake long enough to hear Harry’s breathing pattern change, signaling that he’d drifted off again as well, but he couldn’t even hold his eyes open and soon, he was out again.

 

            Niall called Louis before he went to work the next morning. While he was hostile with him at first, he soon cracked when Louis explained that he’d been trying to brace himself, knowing that Niall was upset with him and that he had every reason to be. He told him-after going out onto the patio to get some privacy-that he knew what his reaction over the situation with Harry would be and Louis couldn’t hear it yet because Harry had saved him that night. Luckily, Niall didn’t press to know what exactly Harry had ‘saved’ him from, assuming he meant the situation with Randy. Louis was going to let him keep assuming.

            “Well, mate,” Niall began after letting out a long deep sigh, “You may be making a mistake, but we pushed you to date Randy and look what happened. I just want you safe and happy, you know that right, Lou?”

            “I know,” Louis assured him, swallowing and blinking against emotion. He _really_ needed to get back on his medication soon. Never would he claim to be mentally strong, but he didn’t typically water up at the drop of a hat.

            “We’re going out tonight,” Niall decided. “Feel free to bring Harry, if you’d like.”

            Louis laughed, wondering if Niall had noticed how reluctant he sounded to allow Louis to bring his boyfriend. He said,

            “You’re in luck. He works tonight.”

            “Oh. Nolan won’t be in town tonight either, so it will just be you, me, and most likely Zayn and Liam, then. Just like old times.”

            “That will be nice,” Louis said, and meant it.

            When Louis told Harry of his plans, the other smiled, though there was something off about it. Louis was confused, trying to figure out what could be wrong with hanging out with his friends, when Harry said,

            “I think it’s nice that you and Niall are still so close.”

            “Yeah, he and Zayn are my best mates,” Louis said, though as he thought about it, Liam may have been on his way to earning ‘best mate’ status as well.

            Harry forced a smile, but still seemed stoic. Louis frowned, staring at the back of Harry’s head in concentration after he’d turned to continue making Louis an egg sandwich. After a few moments, it finally struck him.

            “Oh!” he said out loud, and hurried over to stand by Harry, gently touching his boyfriend’s hip as he leaned against the counter beside of him. “I just realized that I never told you, babe; Niall and I weren’t ever together.”

            “What?” Harry asked, his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline. Still, he didn’t look away from the stove.

            “We pretended just to piss you and Duke off,” Louis said. “I won’t lie to you, we’ve slept together, but not for a while, and it was only because we were both bored and lonely and only had each other on our sides for a while.”

            “Did you love him?” Harry asked. “ _Do_ you love him?”

            “As a mate, yes. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m in love with you and only you, and it’s been that way for quite a while now.”

            Harry smiled down at the egg he was cooking. Louis stood on his tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

            “You don’t have to worry about Niall, babe. Cross my heart.”

            Finally, Harry looked at Louis.

            “Okay,” was all he said, but Louis thought that he believed him.

            For some reason, Harry insisted that Louis take his car to work after he mentioned possibly bailing on the ‘night out’ with the guys early. Louis assured him that he could just take a cab or call an Uber, but Harry told him not to worry about it; that he would get a ride to work with someone that night. After lightly arguing about it for a while, Louis concluded that it was incomprehensibly very important to Harry for Louis to take his car that day, so he agreed. His only stipulation was that if he drank too much to be able to drive, he would call Harry. Louis assured him that wouldn’t happen and that he would be at the club to pick him up in the wee hours of the next morning. It wasn’t like he would get much sleep without Harry there anyway.

            Before Louis left, Harry pulled him tight against his body and nuzzled his nose into his hair, seeming to not want to let go. When Louis asked if he was alright, Harry assured him that he was fine and that he was going to spend the day planning their date that was set tentatively for tomorrow. Louis told him he couldn’t wait.

            Zayn was usually at the shop early to open, but he arrived at the same time as Louis that day. Liam dropped him off, and Zayn nearly fell out of his car as he opened the door, his hair sticking up every which way. His shirt was hanging on him, making it very obvious that it wasn’t actually his.

            “Damn, you didn’t have a good morning or anything, did you?” Louis teased as Zayn slammed the door. Smiling, he waved to Liam, who was grinning from ear to ear, though looking a bit embarrassed as well.

            “Shut up,” Zayn said, though he was notably fighting off a smile. “I couldn’t find my keys.”

            “Maybe they’re with your shirt.”

            “Very possible.”

            Zayn was shaking slightly as he fumbled around for his keys, so Louis found the correct one and opened the door for him. Zayn thanked him and made a beeline for his chair behind the desk, which he collapsed in.

            “I think I better take the first walk-in,” Louis commented.

            “Yeah, probably,” Zayn agreed. “I’ve got an appointment in about an hour, and it’s going to probably take about four hours to complete, so I’m just gonna…compose myself.”

            Louis laughed, shaking his head once at his friend.

            “I’m glad you had such a good time,” he said.

            “Thanks. So, what about you? What happened last night?”

            “Harry had fallen asleep,” Louis said. He’d messaged Zayn to let him know that everything was good, but hadn’t given any details. “Had his phone on silent too.”

            “Ah. Well that’s good.”

            “Yeah. And we talked.”

            “You talked?”

            “Yeah.”

            “About…?”

            Louis smiled, even more excited to tell Zayn that he had a boyfriend than he was when he’d told Niall, mainly because he knew Zayn would be slightly more approving.

            “We decided to become official.”

            “No way!” Zayn said, smiling widely and sitting up straighter in his chair. “That’s awesome, mate! I’m happy for you.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Not that I expect it to, but if something goes wrong, you know I’m here for you, right?”

            “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Zayn; really.”

            “I don’t think it will go wrong, though,” Zayn added. “I have a good feeling about it this time. The way he looks at you is so fucking cute that it grosses me out.”

            Louis smiled, unsure whether Zayn meant that or whether he was just being nice, but he appreciated it anyway.

            “Are you and Liam going out with Niall and me tonight?” Louis changed the subject.

            “Apparently, since Niall said we didn’t have any choice in the matter,” Zayn said with a laugh. “You’re not bringing Harry?”

            “He works,” Louis explained. “Besides, it’s probably best to ease Niall into the idea of us being together before he actually sees it.”

            “He’ll be happy for you once he knows you’re happy and that’s not likely to change,” Zayn assured him.

            “I know,” Louis said. “In time…”

            Whenever he didn’t have a client, Louis spent his day texting Harry. He didn’t have community service or therapy that day, which meant there was nothing to distract his mind from itself, and that worried Louis. He was afraid, in his boredom or loneliness, that he would go to the exercise room and run five miles again, or do something potentially more harmful. However, Harry told Louis that he was keeping busy planning their date for the next day. He’d made a list of ideas, he said, and was in the process of picking the best.

            _I’ll enjoy it, no matter what we do,_ Louis assured Harry, wishing he could see the grin on his face that was present simply because Harry was putting so much effort into the details.

            _I hope so_ , Harry said. Louis told him again that he would.

            Around dinner time, Louis ordered and paid for a pizza-vegetable, in the hopes Harry would consider that healthy enough-and had it sent to the hotel room. Zayn told him he should request that it be made in the shape of a heart and Louis considered it for a brief second before opting out of the idea. Sometime later, Harry sent him a message telling him that the pizza was ‘really good,’ and Louis chose to believe that he truly ate some of it.

            _Wish you were coming with us. See you soon!_ Louis sent to Harry while he and Zayn closed the shop, preparing to go out with Niall and Liam.

            _Thanks, babe. Love you_ , Harry replied.

            Zayn rode with Louis to the sports bar the four had decided to meet at, and when they found Liam and Niall already at a table, Zayn and Liam kissed for so long that it would seem they’d been separated for ten weeks and not ten hours.

            “Oi, some of us would like to not lose our appetite,” Niall teased, breaking the pair apart. They smiled at each other, unashamed.

            “I brought one of your shirts with me in case you wanted to change,” Liam said, tugging lightly on the sleeve of his shirt which Zayn was wearing as it slipped down enough to show a fair bit of collarbone.

            “I like wearing yours,” Zayn told him. “Smells like you.”

            “Gross,” Niall and Louis commented at the same time. Looking concerned with his eyebrows pulled together, Liam asked,

            “I don’t smell gross, do I?”

            Naturally, Louis and Niall had to tell Liam that he did, in fact, smell bad, and it took Zayn nearly three minutes to convince Liam otherwise. Louis, too, assured Liam that he had been teasing. The other wasn’t dumb, he knew, but being in the type of relationship he’d been in previously could knock someone’s self-esteem so low that they sometimes didn’t understand the difference between a friendly tease and an insult. Someday, Liam would trust all of them enough to know they would never purposefully hurt his feelings.

            Since Louis had to drive-and drive Harry’s car, nonetheless-he had only one drink, but he felt that was plenty. He didn’t need to get buzzed to have a good time because there wasn’t a stabbing pain or anxiety consuming him.

            Niall and Liam were quite into the replay of the American football game that was on the television, and Zayn and Louis were alright with sitting there talking as the two cheered, yelled, and angrily smacked the table, despite the fact that, since the game had already aired, they knew that their team had lost.

Before Louis knew it, it was midnight, and Niall had just ordered a couple appetizers for everyone when Louis received a text message from Harry.

            _Hey baxbe,_ he’d said, typo and all. _Miss you._

 _I miss you too. Are you drunk?_ Louis asked, smiling at the thought of Harry’s deep drunk voice calling him ‘babe.’ It took Harry a few minutes to reply, and when he did, he said,

            _Little. Think I’m sick though._

 _Have you been mixing?_ Louis asked, his concern instantly sparking.

_Not drunk sick. Sick, sick._

            _Now you’ve probably got whatever I had,_ Louis decided. The other night had been a false alarm, they’d thought, because after his nap, Harry had felt better, but maybe it had just been the beginning. It looked like their date tomorrow would be taking place in a doctor’s office, but Louis didn’t mind as long as they would give Harry something to make him feel better.

            _Can you leave early?_ Louis asked. _I’ll come get you._

 _Are you still hanging out with the guys?_ Harry asked instead of replying.

            _Yeah, but we’ve been here for hours. I’ll come get you, babe._

_No, I’ll wait. Hope you’re having fun =]_

Louis rolled his eyes, then smiled at Zayn, who was looking at him worriedly, to show that everything was alright.

            _I’ll be on my way in a few minutes. Do you want me to bring you some food?_

            _Ew, no_ , Harry replied, along with the drooling emoji. Louis was confused until he sent the vomiting emoji in a separate text. With a sympathetic laugh, Louis said,

            _Hang tight, I’ll be there soon,_ Louis said.

            _You’re the best. Love you!_

_I love you too._

“Lads, I have to go,” Louis announced, throwing enough cash down to cover his bill, plus a decent tip. “Harry’s sick at work so I’m going to go get him.”

            “You’re going to leave me alone with these two?!” Zayn asked, feigning horror as Liam and Niall’s opposing team scored a touch down and Liam groaned loudly while Niall shouted a classy,

            “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

            “Want to come?” Louis asked. “I can drop you off after I get him.”

            “Tempting, but I’ll stay here,” Zayn said. “If Harry’s sick, he’ll probably just want to get straight home…Oh!”

            Zayn’s eyes widened as he clapped his hands together.

            “Speaking of ‘home,’ Liam’s mate’s parents said they’d like to meet with you and Harry sometime within the next few days about renting that house.”

            “Seriously?!”

            “Yeah! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you earlier…I’ll send you their number later so you can call and set up a meeting.”

            “Aces! Thanks, Z. And tell Liam thanks too, once he’s back in reality.”

            “Will do,” Zayn said. “I hope Harry feels better soon.”

            “Thanks.”

            “You’re leaving?” Niall asked as Louis stood up.

            “Wow,” Louis said. “Zayn, would you like to fill Niall in?”

            Zayn laughed and told him he would while Louis said a quick goodbye and hurried out of the restaurant. He shivered against the night air and blasted the heat in the car, thinking Harry would probably be cold if he had a fever like Louis had.

            Louis had half expected Harry to be outside waiting when he got there, but he wasn’t, so Louis parked the car and walked inside. Upon giving the room a quick visual scan, he didn’t see  Harry-though he did make awkward eye contact with a man who looked him up and down while licking his lips-and so he went to the bar, both for his safety and to see if the bartender knew where Harry was.

            “Hi! What can I get for you?” the smiley young worker asked. This must be Logan, Louis thought. He hadn’t met him the last time he was there with Harry, but Harry had talked about him; said that he was new and far too happy and ‘pure’ to work in a place like that.

            “Hello! Do you happen to know where Harry is?”

            “Why?” the guy asked, looking suspicious. He added, “If he’s waiting on your table, I can get you whatever you need. Otherwise, Harry isn’t on the market.”

            “No, no! Sorry. I’m not, uh…I’m not looking for business. I’m Louis, his boyfriend. I just came to get him because he said he wasn’t feeling well.”

            Logan frowned, his eyebrows nearly forming one long line in his confusion.

            “His boyfriend…,” he repeated, as if to himself.

            “Yeah, well, we literally just became official last night.”

            A bad feeling was already settling upon Louis at the look on Logan’s face. It was a mixture of confusion, suspicion, and fear, but it was like he was stabbed in the chest with a block of ice when Logan said,

            “But…Harry just left with his boyfriend a few minutes ago.”

            “No, I’m pretty sure he didn’t,” Louis said, not meaning to sound as snippy as he did, but he was nothing short of terrified. He had to grip a bar stool just to remain steady on his feet.

            “He left with _somebody_ ,” Logan admitted. Louis sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

            “Do you happen to know what that person looked like?”

            “Um…yeah…He was some brunette guy with puffy lips and big eyes; huge muscles…”

            “Of fucking course,” Louis said, lightly punching the bar stool he had been using as support a mere couple seconds ago.

            “He said he was Harry’s boyfriend,” Logan said.

            “Ex-boyfriend,” Louis corrected. “Alright, thanks.”

            Louis turned on his heel and walked out much steadier than he felt. He was shaking as he sat behind the wheel of the car and had to take a couple deep breaths to stop his head from spinning. Driving probably wasn’t the best idea in his condition, but he had no choice, and he took out his phone to call Harry while speeding towards his ex-husband’s house; the place he swore he was never going back to again.

 

***Harry***

            The night was dragging on. When Harry had gotten to work, he was quick to tell his co-workers that he and Louis were officially together. They deserved to know; after all, they had listened to Harry drunkenly talk about him even before they’d moved into the hotel together. As a congratulations, Harry was given more shots than he could keep track of, though not so many that he couldn’t do his job. He almost wished he had, though, because he didn’t want to be there, letting men that weren’t Louis touch him; seeing lust in everyone’s eyes but Louis’s. Harry wanted to hide his body in a hoodie and sweats, and not just because the pizza he’d eaten earlier had bloated him, but because the way the men were looking at him tonight made him want to scratch his skin off and bring up everything he’d eaten that day.

            It was only after Harry had to go in the bathroom and cry for ten minutes that he concluded he should stop drinking at work. He supposed he could look into getting a different job, but he made great tips there. It would take him longer to save up for his potential business somewhere else.

            Harry hid the evidence of his tears well, but his disdain apparently still showed on his face, because as he walked to the bar to grab a drink for a man that had tried on three different occasions to grab his arse, Logan, the bartender, stuck out his bottom lip in a sympathetic pout.

            “Aw, cheer up, buttercup. It’s not so bad, is it?”

            “It’s just a long night and I’m tired,” Harry said, both of which were true, but were only the underlining of what was bothering him. “Give it a few months and you’ll be crying at work too.”

            Logan touched Harry’s back briefly, and then a wide smile cracked his face.

            “I have something that will make you feel better!”

            “What?” Harry asked, hoping he wasn’t about to offer him drugs. Harry would say no, of course, but every time he turned down drugs, he had to do something else to take its place and he truly was trying to keep his promise to Louis that he wouldn’t hurt himself. He’d been good all day, which was probably another reason his emotions were so unsteady. Causing pain to himself was the only way he knew to keep them under control.

            “This,” Logan said, sliding a drink to Harry; a Purple Haze, by the looks of it.

            “Whose it from?” Harry asked suspiciously, his eyes darting to the man who kept trying to feel him up.

            “Louis,” Logan answered, and Harry jolted.

            “Louis?” he asked. “ _My_ Louis?!”

            “I’m assuming so, given as this is California, not London, and so I don’t think there are many British guys named Louis here.”

            “Probably not,” Harry agreed, and accepted the drink. He knew he had just told himself that drinking at work was something he should avoid, but it was from Louis, and if it was from Louis, then Louis was there, and that made Harry happy. He probably wouldn’t have to lock himself in a stall to cry again.

            “Where is Louis?” he asked after taking a couple sips. He was right; it was a Purple Haze.

            “He had to step outside to take a call. Said it was someone named Niall.”

            “Oh, okay,” Harry said, continuing to sip his cocktail. Logan watched him, smiling.

            “Do you want to take your break now?” he asked.

            “Have you and Max got the floor covered for a few?”

            “Yeah, of course. Go see your man. He’s gorgeous, by the way.”

            “I know,” Harry said with a smile. Taking his drink, he went to the front of the club, expecting to see Louis there talking on his phone, but his boyfriend wasn’t in sight. Someone else was, and Harry groaned when he saw him.

            “Nice to see you too,” Duke commented.

            “What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry asked, taking another drink to appear calmer than he felt as his ex walked closer to him.

            “You won’t answer my calls,” Duke said. “I just want to talk.”

            “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

            “So you’re just going to leave me with no explanation?”

            “We weren’t together, Duke! Not this past time. I know you’re too thick to believe it, but I don’t owe you anything.”

            Duke stared at Harry, his expression unreadable, and then he calmly asked,

            “Is your drink good?”

            “It’s alright,” Harry said. He hoped Duke knew he was only shaking because it was cold and he had minimal clothing on, but the cocky look on his face hinted otherwise.

            “I’m going back inside,” Harry said.

            “Wait,” Duke ordered, grabbing his arm and turning him around so roughly that he nearly dropped his cup.

            “Go home, Duke! I’m not coming back. You’re an awful person-maybe a psychopath-and you’ve interfered with my life and Louis’s enough, so I’m done. We’re done. Go get help, please.”

            “I’ll get help. Just come home. I love you.”

            “No, you don’t. You love the power you had over me. There’s a big, big difference.”

            “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know any other way to act. Louis hurt me and-”

            “Oh, shut the fuck up,” Harry said. “How involved are you in your own fantasy world that you don’t think I know the truth by now? You deserve much more than the broken nose he gave to you, in my humble opinion.”

            The familiar glint of rage sparked in Duke’s eyes, looking even eerier under the harsh lights of the parking lot. Harry swallowed, feeling sick, and backed up before he even realized he was moving.

            “Leave me alone, and don’t you dare go after Louis or I’ll do much worse than he did.”

            “Are you threatening me?”

            “I’m telling you what the consequences will be if you make the wrong decision.”

            Duke glared for a couple of moments, but then he smiled. It almost looked evil and Harry was starting to wonder how he’d been so blind to what was inside of this man for so long.

            “Enjoy your freedom,” Duke said. “It’s not going to last.”

            Harry frowned, not sure what he meant by that, but he sure wasn’t going to keep him around long enough to ask, so he turned on his heel and entered the club again.

            When he got to the bar, Logan wasn’t there, so Harry set his only half empty cup down-such a waste of alcohol, he thought sadly-and went to the back of the building for a smoke after grabbing his jacket and phone.

            _Hey, babe. Miss you,_ he messaged Louis after a few minutes of debate. He didn’t want to be the clingy boyfriend, but he was, and Louis already knew that and loved him anyway, so what was the point of trying to change?

            _I miss you too. Are you drunk?_ Louis asked. Harry started to type ‘no,’ but suddenly, his vision blurred. He had to blink several times to bring it back into focus, but even then, his head felt light and he became nauseous. He was going to have to talk to Logan about how much alcohol he was using in his drinks because, clearly, it was way too much.

            Blinking rapidly as his vision blurred again, Harry squinted as his phone, trying to read what Louis had replied, as he’d suddenly forgotten. A sharp pain in his stomach made him gasp and the groan he emitted was interrupted by a hiccup. This didn’t feel like the type of sick he usually felt from drinking too much alcohol, he decided. His body was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering and he could barely keep a hold of his phone even though Harry didn’t feel the coldness of the night anymore. He must be developing a fever, he decided.

            _Little_ , Harry replied when he remembered that Louis had asked if he was drunk. _Think I’m sick._

Of course, after that, Louis decided that he was going to come pick Harry up, even though Harry told him not to worry about it; that he would be fine waiting there until he was done with his friends. Louis was having none of it though because Louis was selfless and amazing. Harry wouldn’t admit it, but he was secretly glad. He felt like literal death.

            Harry fell asleep sitting at the back of the building with a cigarette in his hand, and jolted awake when the hot ashes fell on his leg. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and stood, using the wall for support as he did so, and weakly stamped out his cigarette. The responsible thing would to be to put it in the nearby ashtray, but Harry thought he would probably throw up if he leaned down to get it.

            It took a while for Harry to even gather enough strength to open the club door, and he fell trying to stumble his way to the bar and tell Logan that he didn’t think he would be able to work for the rest of the night. Alarmingly, when he fell, he couldn’t get back up.

            “Sh, you’re okay, baby,” a voice said into his ear, and the world spun as Harry was lifted from the ground by a pair of strong arms that would be so good for protection but were usually just used to injure. Harry tried to scream, to hit, to do _something,_ but he couldn’t move.

            “Logan, Harry is very ill,” Duke said to the bartender. “I need to take him home.”

            “Oh my god, I knew we shouldn’t have given him so much to drink before his shift! Harry, I’m so sorry!”

            “It’s not your fault,” Duke said. “He’ll be fine.”

            “Feel better soon, Harry!”

            Harry managed a guttural whine as he tried to speak and ask Logan to help him, but that was all.

            Upon reaching his car, Duke threw Harry-literally threw him-into the backseat and smiled at him from the rearview mirror once he got in.

            “Stupid whore,” he said with a laugh. “You just make it so easy.”

            Passing out was the worst thing he could do right now, and so Harry tried to concentrate on counting the street lights as Duke drove to stay awake, but it suddenly seemed like he’d forgotten how to count past five, and he fell asleep after a couple attempts, as if he’d been counting sheep.

            When Harry woke, he was in Duke’s bed and the man was attempting to get his tiny bottoms off. Luckily, his rest seemed to have given him a bit more energy and he kicked, his foot meeting Duke’s jawline and causing a nasty _crack_. Harry nearly gagged, but was taken aback when a fist collided swiftly with the side of his nose.

            “Calm down, you little bitch,” Duke said, massaging his jaw but keeping his tone icy. “Louis’s on his way and then we can really have some fun.”

            As his boyfriend’s name rolled off the tongue of this vile man, Harry saw white.

            “If you touch him, I’ll kill you, I swear to God.”

            “I’d like to see you try,” Duke said with a laugh, and Harry was sure he wasn’t actually challenging him, but it felt as if his soul left his body and the next thing he knew, he was lunging at his ex-boyfriend, sending them both toppling from the bed.

            “Easy, Harry,” Duke warned as Harry straddled him, one fist in the air as he prepared to punch. “You’re already going back to jail when you fail your next drug test. You don’t want to add assault and battery to your charge, do you?”

            Harry didn’t answer, but punched anyway, figuring if he was going back to jail, he was going to make it worth it. The noise of surprise Duke made was worth it enough, and Harry kept punching until he was bucked off the other man. His head hit the side of the bed and in the next instant, he was lifted off his feet as the psychopath punched him again. Harry struggled against him, but he was kicked in the stomach and knocked back to the ground, where the stronger man pinned him with one arm and began hitting with the hand that wasn’t digging its nails into Harry’s exposed chest.

            Through Harry’s screaming, neither one heard the front door open and Harry was half unconscious again when someone lifted Duke from him like he weighed nothing. In his hazy state, it took Harry a moment to realize that it was Liam.

            “What the-” Duke began, but was interrupted by Louis. Harry couldn’t see him, but just hearing his voice brought comfort to his sore body and bleary mind.

            “You didn’t honestly think I would be dumb enough to come here alone?” Louis asked. Harry felt someone gently lift his head and when he was able to focus his eyes, they settled on a pair of gentle, worried, beautiful blue ones.

            “Hey, love,” he said. “We’re getting out of here.”

            “Lou, you’ve got to get the police involved,” an Irish accent spoke. Louis had brought the whole party, then, Harry noted, and almost laughed to himself.

            It was highly possible that his soul was _actually_ about to leave his body.

            “This has to end,” Niall continued. “He’s not going to stop if he never has real consequences.”

            “Can’t call the police,” Harry croaked. “He…drugs. He gave me drugs. I’m on drugs. They’ll take me away!”

            “Sh, babe, that’s not your fault. They can’t punish you for that,” Louis said gently, moving a clump of hair that was matted onto Harry’s forehead. Whether it was matted with sweat or blood was the true question. “Niall’s right. We need an ambulance and the police.”

            Harry was just about to say something-he wasn’t quite sure what yet-when another sound of skin hitting skin sounded, and then Zayn said,

            “Oh HELL no!”

            “Zayn! Christ!” Niall muttered, trying to break up the fight between Zayn and Duke while Liam tried to stop his nose from bleeding with his sleeve.

            “You’re all getting hurt because of me,” Harry said, tears welling up in his eyes.

            “We’ll call the police later, guys. We just need to get out of here,” Louis decided once Liam had Duke detained again. His nose was still slowly dripping blood, but he had apparently decided that was the least of their worries. Niall had a grip on Zayn, who looked like he would attack Duke again the moment he had the opportunity.

            “I don’t want to go to jail!” Harry said.

            “You’re not going to jail. I promise,” Louis said. “Can you sit up?”

            With much help, Harry did, and then Louis pulled him to his feet, keeping an arm around his waist as Harry leaned almost all his weight against him despite his best efforts not to.

            “He’s not going to let us all leave,” Harry said.

            “Don’t worry about that, Harry,” Liam told him calmly. “Get yourself and Lou out of here and we’ll be right behind you.”

            “No,” Harry said. “I’m not a fucking damsel!”

            Confusion and potentially even fear for Harry’s sanity crossed the faces of Liam, Zayn, and Niall, but Harry didn’t care. Even drugged and beaten up, probably nearly beyond the point of recognition, Harry had never felt stronger than he had in this moment. He’d hurt too many people. He wasn’t letting anyone else get hurt because of him.

            Harry almost fell to the ground as he stumbled out of Louis’s grasp, but Niall reached out and supported him until he was steady on his feet. Louis tried to reach for him again, letting out a small, desperate, “Harry, no,” but Harry zig-zagged his way drunkenly but confidently to his ex-boyfriend; the one who had called him a whore at least once a day, who hadn’t touched him until he’d been tested for every sexually transmitted disease and infection, and who routinely made him get tested through the duration of their relationship-which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, had he not done it as a shame tactic-and stared up at him.

“What?” Duke asked, smirking.

“You’re a terrible person,” Harry told him.

“Ouch, that really hurt my feelings,” Duke said sarcastically. Harry laughed fleetingly.

“Rot in Hell,” he said, and spit in his face. Duke screamed and flailed like he hadn’t just been planning to attempt to force Harry into anything, and Liam took that chance to throw him to ground and didn’t waste a second in throwing Harry over his shoulder and bolting out with the rest of them.

            Once outside, Harry was passed around until he was in Louis’s arms in the backseat of someone’s car-Liam’s, he assumed, since he was the one driving.

            “Is everyone okay?” Harry asked.

            “Harry, we should be asking you that!” Zayn said.

            “He punched Liam, and your lip is bleeding”

            “He elbowed me in the nose,” Liam corrected. “We’ll be okay, Harry, but we’re taking you to a hospital.”

            “They’re going to know I’m on drugs.”

            Harry began shaking badly again, and Louis tightened his hold on him.

            “I can’t believe he did that to you. Well, I _can_ , but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. I’m so sorry, love.”

            “He told Logan that he was you when he bought me a drink and then I guess Logan probably didn’t watch it carefully and turned his back. I don’t need a hospital, though. Can we go home?”

            “Harry, you were just drugged, kidnapped and assaulted,” Niall said.

            “I just need a bath, some water, and a blanket. And a little more clothes. I’m half naked back here.”

            Harry didn’t know where his jacket had gone, but Zayn kindly took off his and handed it to Louis to put on Harry while Niall laid his own jacket across Harry’s thighs, muttering something to Louis about Harry being ‘in shock.’

            “I’m fine,” Harry said. “I’m not a damsel.”

            “You’re not,” Louis agreed, rubbing Harry’s back. Still, Harry heard the quiet ‘oh fuck’ that he let out with a sigh.

            “I don’t want to go to the hospital, Liam,” Harry reminded the driver, who glanced back at Louis. Harry continued, “They’re just gonna say, ‘yeah you’re definitely high and your face looks like shit. Let’s give you some antibacterial ointment and bandages you could buy in a store and charge you your whole life savings for it. Maybe throw you in jail while we’re at it.’”

            “I told you, you’re not going to jail,” Louis said.

            “You can’t make those kinds of decisions,” Harry reminded him gently.

            “You’re not going to jail,” Niall assured him as well. Niall, of course, couldn’t decide that either, but Harry decided to let it go.

            “Please,” he asked one more time. “I want to go home.”

            “Alright,” Liam said after silently communicating with Louis. “Do you have anything to clean yourself up with?”

            Harry told him that he didn’t, so Niall decided he would go to the store after the others were dropped off at the hotel, since he was the only one beside Louis whose face wasn’t marked. Satisfied with that conclusion, Harry leaned back against Louis and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize again for my inconsistent updating schedule. It's been really hard for me to write recently for some reason, but I'm trying to get better. I'm going to estimate this has 3-4 more chapters left, and I'll do my best to post them quickly! (And Duke is almost completely out of the picture, I promise!)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, SO sorry about my long, unexpected break. Lots of bad things happened, then lots of good things, and then it was a whirlwind of everything, but I THINK things are finally calming down and I am trying to break this writer's block. I won't even give an estimate for when I will have the next chapter posted, but I am going to have it up as soon as I possibly can. Thank you all for your patience and support <3

***Louis***

            Louis called Harry’s phone three times before someone finally picked up. Unfortunately, that person wasn’t Harry.

            “Hey, Lou,” Duke said, and Louis could see the sneer that was on his face simply by the tone of his voice. He outwardly grimaced and had to focus heavily on not letting his vision cloud over from rage while driving.

            “Give the phone to Harry, you prick,” Louis said as a way of hello.

            “He doesn’t want to talk to you, Louis,” Duke told him. “He wanted to come back with me.”

            “I don’t believe that for a fucking second.”

            That may have been a lie. There was a mere moment when Logan first told Louis that Harry had left with Duke in which a deep pain stabbed at his chest, but that went away quicker than it had come. Harry was known to run away, and this wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken Duke back either, but it made no sense under the circumstances. When Harry ran off, it was to get away from the man, and when he went back, it was because he had no other feasible choice. But Louis had heard the emotion in Harry’s voice as he sang the song he’d written for Louis the previous night. He’d seen the way he’d looked at him and felt the love when Harry held him when he got off stage, as well as later, after his nightmare. It had been less than an hour since Harry had texted Louis because he missed him; unless that was Duke, but Louis didn’t think so. If it had been him, he would have tricked Louis into coming directly to his house, not to where Harry worked. Had it been Duke pretending to be a sick Harry, he wouldn’t have told him to stay out with friends when Louis initially offered to pick him up, given the slight chance that Louis would.

            Still, Louis needed to keep himself composed. Whether he’d gone willingly or not, Harry was in Duke’s presence and if Louis made their ex angry, Harry would be the one to pay.

            Taking a deep breath, Louis decided to bust out the acting skills that had saved him on numerous occasions while being married to the psychopath, and he said,

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that. Just…it hurts, you know? I thought he loved me.”

            “I know,” Duke said, clearly trying to sound sympathetic but being unable to hide his delight that he thought his plan was working.

            “Well…I guess just take care of him for me, yeah?”

            “Are you giving up that easily?” Duke asked.

            “I want him to be happy, so if you’re the one that makes him happy, then I guess…Yeah, I have to let him go.”

            “I make him happy,” Duke affirmed, and then said, “but you make me happy. You can come home too, Lou…We can all be happy together.”

            “You think?” Louis asked, crossing his fingers that he sounded hopeful and not repulsed. “I was never that good with our threesomes.”

            “It was never with Harry. You love him and I love you, so I think it will work out perfectly. Please, baby, come home…I need you. Harry needs you.”

            Louis hummed noncommittally for a few moments, pretending to think it over. Finally, he said,

            “Okay, I guess it’s worth a shot.”

            “Great!” Duke exclaimed, almost manically. “Harry and I will be waiting.”

            Duke disconnected the call, and chewing the inside of his lip, Louis sped up until he was back at the sports bar. Relief swept over him when he saw Niall and Liam’s cars still there.

            “You’ve returned for me!” Zayn exclaimed when he saw Louis approaching, but his smile turned to a frown when he noticed the expression on his face. “Wait, what happened? Is Harry okay?”

            “Lads, I need you,” Louis said, and he hadn’t spoken loudly, but immediately, Liam and Niall turned their attention away from the game they were still watching and focused on Louis.

            “Anything you need,” Liam said. Hoping that was true, Louis proceeded to explain what had just happened, and his friends stood before he’d even asked if they would come to Duke’s with him.

            “Let’s go get Harry,” Niall said, and Louis knew his shock was obvious, but he couldn’t help it. He’d expected Niall to be skeptical of his theory; to tell him that Harry probably had, in fact, left him for Duke.

            A small, humorless smile took place on the face of his Irish friend when he noted Louis’s surprise.

            “Well, we’re either going to bring him home or kick his arse, but for both of your sakes, I’m hoping for the first option.”

            Louis parked in the driveway while Niall and Liam parked on the curb as far away from the front door or any windows of the house that they could. Even though they hadn’t discussed a plan, all four of them shut their car doors quietly, not wanting to prematurely alert Duke to their arrival.

            “He’s never going to open the front door if he sees all of us here,” Niall whispered once the friends were near enough to each other. “I know we have strength in numbers, but we also need the element of surprise to be on our side.”

            “Hold on,” Liam said, hurrying back to his car. He sifted through the dashboard and then the glove compartment until he finally found what he wanted and came back over to the group, a few bobby pins in hand.

“Why do you have bobby pins in your car…?” Zayn asked, speaking quietly. “Do you have a secret life as a drag queen that I don’t know about? Because if so, _why_ don’t I know about it?”

“Nothing like that,” Liam said with a laugh, though he kept his voice hushed too. “I used to have to pick tons of locks back in the day and these little suckers do the best job of it.”

“Okay, so would you like to tell me about your secret life as a lock picker?” Zayn whispered as the group followed Liam to the front door.

            “My ex used to lock the door to our flat when he knew I would be getting home from work after he went to bed. He never gave me a key, so his logic was that he would have to let me in and would know exactly when I got home, but he only did it when he was drunk, so he never remembered in the morning that he hadn’t actually left it open when I would succeed in sneaking in.”

            “Man, fuck that guy,” Zayn said.

            “I wouldn’t recommend it. He wasn’t that good,” Liam said, and added, “which adds to the mystery of why I stayed with him so long.”

            Under other circumstances, Louis would have laughed, but the _click_ of the deadbolt meant that they were seconds away from being in the house, and while Louis wanted to get to Harry, he hadn’t ever wanted to step foot in this place again.

            Sensing his anxiety, Niall put a supportive hand on Louis’s back.

            Louis and Liam had perfected the art of being unnoticed when they had to be, and Zayn was simply a quiet person by nature. Niall, bless him, struggled with it, but Duke was already expecting Louis. It was fine if he heard one person. As long as he wasn’t prepared for an attack of four, they had the advantage.

            Shortly after entering, it didn’t matter if they were silent or not, because that was when the screaming started. It was Harry’s scream, and Louis took off running up the stairs, hoping Zayn and Liam would forgive him for rudely shoving past them.

            “Lou!” Liam whisper-yelled, but he, along with the other two, began running after him. Ever the protector, Liam held Louis back for just a moment so that he could enter the room first and assess the situation.

            Duke was on top of Harry, who was still screaming, hitting, and kicking, but to no avail. In two fluid steps, Liam reached the pair and pulled Duke right off Louis’s boyfriend and onto his feet.

            “What the-” Duke began, swinging a fist instinctively, but being effortlessly blocked by Liam.

            “You didn’t honestly think I would be dumb enough to come here alone?” Louis asked as he rushed over to kneel by Harry. He was glad to see that his eyes were open, scanning the room slowly, but the blood and marks that were covering his boyfriend’s beautiful face nearly sent him into a panic attack. He had to stay strong for Harry, though, as well as the rest of his friends. As Louis saw it, he’d gotten them all into this situation and he wouldn’t be the reason they didn’t get out as unscathed as possible.

            “Hey, love,” Louis said as calmly as he could when Harry focused his gaze on him. “We’re getting out of here.”

***Harry***

The first thing Harry became aware of as he was coming to again was someone saying, “Slide me the trashcan, please, babe,” and the second thing was a pair of strong arms supporting him while he blindly threw up, though he didn’t even realize he was doing it until he was nearly finished.

            “Oh, gross,” Harry commented in a gasp once he was able to breathe and open his eyes. The person holding onto him-Liam, he realized, by his tattoos-gave a soft laugh.

            “You’re okay,” he said. “Get it all out.”

            Harry opened his mouth to tell Liam that he was fine now, but apparently he wasn’t because he was overtaken by another round of sickness. Liam softly shushed him and rubbed his back, telling him that he was doing ‘good,’ whatever that meant in these circumstances.

            “Yeah,” Harry sighed once he was, again, able to speak. “I’m really good at throwing up. It’s one of my few talents.”

            Liam and Zayn, who was standing off to the side a bit, both laughed as Liam handed Harry a tissue from the bedside table.

            “Where’s Louis?” Harry asked after wiping his mouth and tossing the tissue in the bin, which Liam placed away from the bed, but near enough to grab in case of an emergency.

            “Outside talking to your sister on the phone,” Liam answered.

            “He told my sister?!”

            “She called you, so I think she already knew something was going on.”

            Harry groaned loudly and closed his eyes as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding. Then, a realization nearly made his heart stop.

            “Is he out on the balcony?!”

            “Yeah.”

            Both Liam and Zayn said Harry’s name as he struggled to stand from the bed and Liam gently pulled him back.

            “He’ll be back in a minute, mate. Just relax,” Liam said.

            “Can you just make sure he’s still out there, please?” Harry asked, his heart racing. He started to feel sick again. Liam and Zayn gave him a strange look, but Zayn walked over to the sliding door that led to the balcony and looked out anyway.

            “He’s there,” Zayn assured him. Teasingly, he added,

            “Don’t worry. I think Louis’s too clumsy to climb down and make an escape.”

            _Unless he doesn’t care if he falls,_ Harry thought, but didn’t say. Besides, Harry meant no disrespect, but it was hard for him to completely trust Zayn’s words when he was known to see things that weren’t there.

            “I need to empty the trash can,” Harry said, becoming embarrassed. He tried to stand, but, again, Liam gently pushed him back.

            “I’ve got it, mate. You seriously need to rest. You’re extremely pale right now, so I don’t think you’re as well off as you’re trying to make us believe.”

            “I’m always pale,” Harry said, but when Liam gave him a look, he shut up.

            “This group of friends takes care of each other,” Liam told him. “I know you’re probably not used to relationships of that sort, but you’ll have to get used to it if you’re dating Louis!”

            Harry gave a small smile to match the grin Liam had, and then he laughed as Liam laid him down and proceeded to tuck him in.

            “I’m going to get you some water too,” he said.

            “The water from their tap is poisoned,” Zayn said. “You’ll have to get some from the vending machine down the hall.”

            “It’s not poisoned, darling,” Liam told his boyfriend gently, kissing him on the forehead before coming back around to grab the trashcan Harry had been sick in. “You’re just tired, but if it makes you feel better, I will get him a bottle of water.”

            Zayn nodded once, a pleading expression on his face, so after telling them that he would be back, Liam left the room to clean out the waste bucket and retrieve water for Harry.

            Appearing satisfied that he had convinced Liam to not use the water from the tap, Zayn smiled and then sat on the bed by Harry’s feet.

            “How are you feeling now?” he asked.

            “Fine,” Harry answered, and that wasn’t the complete truth, but this was nothing he hadn’t experienced before. After going through complete withdrawals following years of doing drugs, Harry thought he could probably run a marathon under these much milder conditions if someone asked him to.

            “Where’s Niall?” Harry thought to ask when Zayn didn’t respond to him. Zayn’s eyebrows furrowed together as if he were trying to remember-or maybe he was simply trying to sift through the various voices and thoughts in his head-and then he replied,

            “Oh! He went to the store to get items to clean you up.”

            “I wasn’t out long, then?” Harry asked. He felt as if he’d been passed out for hours.

            “Just a little over thirty minutes, probably,” Zayn told him. “You woke less than ten minutes after we got here.”

            “How long has Louis been out there?”

            Zayn didn’t have a chance to answer before the sliding door opened and Harry’s boyfriend stepped in. His forehead was creased in concern, but he smiled when he saw Harry looking at him.

            “Hey, love,” he said quietly, walking softly to sit on Harry’s other side next to Zayn. “How are you?”

            “I just puked twice, so I think I’m sober now,” Harry said. “Not sober enough for a drug test, but…”

            Louis unintentionally stuck out his bottom lip as he went to stroke Harry’s cheek. He hesitated and instead ran his hands through the top of Harry’s hair, causing Harry to wonder what his face looked like.

            “We’re calling your parole officer as soon as the sun comes up,” Louis said. “He’s not getting away with this and you’re not getting in trouble for it.”

            “I’m sorry, Lou,” Harry said, blindly searching for his boyfriend’s hand. Louis laced their fingers together and gently-dabbed at the corner of Harry’s moist eye with his own thumb on his free hand.

            “What are you apologizing for?” Louis asked. “None of this was your fault.”

            “I’m stupid. I always get myself into these situations. I made Liam and Zayn get hurt, and I made you see that man again.”

            “ _You_ didn’t do anything,” Louis said. “I would have come after you no matter what you said, and I’m the one who brought the others along.”

            “We’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Zayn spoke. “Like Liam said, we take care of each other in this group.”

            Harry sighed and opened his mouth to apologize again because he hadn’t done anything to deserve these friends yet, but before he uttered a word, Zayn said,

            “Why are you laughing at me?”

            Louis unlaced his hand from Harry’s to pat Zayn’s back, but he kept his gaze focused on Harry, trying to comfort him with just his eyes, and it was kind of working. Harry felt his own eyes growing heavy.

            Seemingly on the same path, Zayn said,

            “If you say so. Good night, lads!”

            “‘Night, Zayn,” Louis said softly as Zayn made his way to the couch and collapsed. Harry’s guilt somehow grew. He didn’t know Zayn very well, but from what Louis said, he was doing a lot better with his mental illness. Loud noises triggered him, Harry remembered, and from what Liam said minutes ago, so did a lack of sleep. Zayn had experienced both, and it was all Harry’s fault.

            “He’s okay,” Louis whispered to Harry, as if he knew what he was thinking. “It’s a bit sad that even the voices told him to sleep, but, hey, whatever gets the job done!”

            Harry laughed, but it was a quick thing.

            “I’m sorry,” he said again.

            “I know, but you don’t have to be,” Louis said. Before Harry could insist that he did, there was a knock on the door to the suite. Louis quickly hurried to open it, and a few seconds later, rounded the corner again with Niall and Liam close behind.

            “Sorry it took so long, mate,” Niall said, setting the plastic bag from the store on the nightstand beside Harry. “Liam didn’t tell me he was almost out of gas.”

            “I didn’t realize I was,” Liam said. He placed a water bottle by the plastic bag Niall had brought in and set the trash can by the bed. “I typically don’t notice until my low fuel light comes on.”

            “It’s okay,” Harry said, sitting up slowly and reaching for his water. Everything hurt, and the moment he cringed, Liam picked the water bottle right back up, unscrewed the cap and handed it to Harry, who quietly thanked him.

            “Where’s Zayn?” Liam asked.

            “Couch,” Louis said, nodding to where the other man’s sleeping boyfriend lay. “He was starting to hear things…”

            “Yeah, he was getting real paranoid too,” Liam said. “Thought the water from your tap was poisoned.”

            “Sorry,” Harry interjected, and Liam rolled his eyes, though not unkindly because he smiled afterward.

            “Isn’t your fault, mate,” he said.

            After Harry had consumed about half of his water, Louis helped him to the bathroom to get his face cleaned up. Harry thought he’d been prepared for what he would see in the mirror, because he was used to seeing himself in the aftereffects of a fight, but he’d been wrong. He outwardly gasped when he saw his reflection; both sides of his face swollen and red, both eyes bruised, his lip busted in two different places, his neck cut and bruised as well as his arms and even his stomach.

            “You fought back though,” Louis said quickly when he felt Harry start to freak out. “He was bruised too. You fought back, and I’m so proud of you.”

            “I clearly lost the fight. Holy shit,” Harry said, hating his reflection but unable to look away.

            “Nah. We won,” Louis said. “You won.”

            “What were you talking to my sister about?” Harry asked as Louis set him on the closed toilet lid and gently began dabbing at his face with a wet washcloth. He sucked in a breath when Harry cringed.

            “Sorry, baby, sorry,” he said, and then answered, “She called you because Duke called her losing his absolute shit. Said he was going to kill us all and thought she would know where we were and tell him.”

            “Hold on, she lives alone! If he gets it in his head that she knows where we are and she’s not telling, then he might go hurt her!”

            “She has a couple of guy friends on the way,” Louis assured Harry. “She was about to call authorities on him, but I told her that it would be best if you talk to your parole officer first.”

            “It’s late. I don’t want to wake him,” Harry said quietly, even though that was on the bottom of his list of reasons for not wanting to call. He didn’t want to admit it yet; didn’t want to think about all those months of being clean just going down the drain. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, and he knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d been high. He wasn’t looking forward to restarting his ‘days clean’ count. The motivation wasn’t there, and that scared him; made him weak.

            “We’ll call when it’s daylight,” Louis told him again, and Harry nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. He changed the subject.

            “We were supposed to go on a date tomorrow,” he said. He hadn’t expected tears to well up behind his eyes again, and even though this was nowhere near the first time he’d cried in front of Louis, he couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. Ever the gentleman, Louis kissed the top of his head and gently dabbed the single tear that had successfully fallen.

            “Another time, love.”

            “I had a plan.”

            “Well, I can’t wait to find out what that plan was.”

            “It was dumb anyway.”

            “Stop,” Louis said gently, but firmly. “We’ll have a great time doing whatever you had planned. In the mean time, let’s focus on healing and getting that absolute psychopath out of our lives for good.”

            “He wanted you,” Harry said, a feeling of disgust settling in him when he thought of Duke ever laying a hand on precious Louis. He hadn’t liked that Zayn and Liam got hurt, but he was grateful Duke hadn’t had a chance to touch Louis. “He always wanted you. That’s why he was with me in the first place. He thought being with me would bring you closer, and I let him do that. I’m sorry.”

            “I still don’t know why you’re apologizing, Haz,” Louis sighed, sounding defeated. “You didn’t deserve to be used as a game piece.”

            “You are quite the prize, though, Lou.”

            Despite feeling like absolute hell, physically and mentally, the smile that Louis couldn’t hold back caused Harry to grin as well.

            “If only both of you knew there was never any competition.”

            “I’m not the brightest. You should know this by now.”

            “Stop,” Louis said again, but he laughed that time. Deciding that Harry’s face was as cleaned up as it could get, he put the washcloth down on the sink and sat on Harry’s lap, facing him.

            “Did he do anything…else to you?”

            “He tried to get me to have sex with him, if that’s what you mean.”

            “But he didn’t force you to?”

            Harry shook his head.

            “He probably didn’t know how to go about it,” he said bitterly, though the bitterness was aimed at himself. “Not like I ever told him no before.”

            “Regardless, he’s shit,” Louis said. Deciding that Harry’s face was as cleaned up as it could get, he put the washcloth down on the sink and tugged on Harry’s wrist. “Let’s get you to bed.”

            Harry stood, swaying once on his feet, but Louis steadied him and put an arm around his waist as he walked with him to the bed. Liam was on the couch with Zayn, his eyes heavy as he ran his fingernail gently up and down his sleeping boyfriend’s back, and Niall was on the floor next to them, with a pillow and a blanket from the couch, already asleep.

            “Everything good?” Liam whispered as the two passed them.

            “As good as they can be right now,” Louis said. Liam nodded.

            “Wake me up if either of you need anything.”

            “You’ve been great, Liam; thanks.”

            “Of course.”

            Louis and Harry both stripped down to their underwear before crawling in bed, Harry a bit concerned that if someone were to wake before him, they would see his exposed body, but he was much too tired to do anything about it.

            “I love you,” Louis whispered as he kissed the side of Harry’s head.

            “I love you,” Harry replied. “Someday we’ll be a normal couple.”

            “‘Normal’ is a bit of a stretch,” Louis teased, “but we’ll leave the drama and pain behind us one day. We’ll have a house, we’ll have a dog, and we won’t have an abusive ex that likes to pop in every time things are going well.”

            “Sounds lovely,” Harry said with a yawn.

“Go to sleep,” Louis said. “We’ll get where we want to be, but tomorrow is going to be one hell of a step towards getting there.”

Even with his insomnia, Harry thought sleep should have come easily to him. He was tired enough, but even Louis’s soft, even breathing pattern once he dozed off, which was usually what lulled Harry into at least a mild sleep for a little while, wasn’t helping him that night. Every noise he heard made his heart race and when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Duke bursting through the door and hurting every single one of them, all because Harry was stupid and selfish.

            Harry jumped so hard that he nearly kicked Louis when he heard someone walking in the kitchen. The rational part of his mind knew that it was probably Liam, Niall, or Zayn, but the other part told him that Duke had somehow broken in without him hearing and was now searching for something to use in an attack.

            Shaking, Harry got out of bed and tiptoed as quietly as he could towards the kitchen. He didn’t see the outline of anyone, and his heart began to pound audibly. Liam, Niall, and Zayn wouldn’t feel the need to hide, he thought. If they’d gotten up for a glass of water or a snack, he would see them or, in the least, still hear them, but suddenly, all was silent.

            Once reaching the kitchen, Harry flipped up the light switch and hurried forward to find a weapon he could use, but in the process, he nearly tripped over Zayn, who was sitting on the floor and looking up at something. A wave of relief coursed through Harry and he let out a breath, running a hand over his face.

            “You okay, mate?” he whispered after he’d taken a moment to compose himself.

            “The microwave is being loud,” Zayn told him, also whispering, so Harry walked over to the counter of which it was sitting on and pulled the plug out of the socket.

            “Better?” he asked. Zayn sat still for a moment, thinking, and then he smiled.

            “Yeah, that’s better,” he said with a smile. “Thanks!”

            “No problem.”

            His legs feeling like jelly, Harry collapsed on the floor next to Zayn, who studied him intensely before speaking.

            “Not everything bad that happens is your fault, you know,” he said.

            “Really? Because awful things seem to follow me around and hurt everyone near me on the way.”

            “I know but taking the blame for it all is giving yourself too much credit. You don’t have that kind of power; nobody does. My mum…she wasn’t in the best line of work, and she brought guys home a lot that would mistreat her. Whenever my step dad was home, he would abuse her too, and it always felt like my fault because I couldn’t do anything to stop it, but I couldn’t control them. I couldn’t make my mum quit her job, and I couldn’t change the misfortune that the universe, or whatever is out there, brought. You can only control yourself, and even then, you’re limited of your power. Sometimes things happen, Harry. There are bad people in this shitty, unfair world, and trying to control it all will drive you insane. Literally.”

            Harry didn’t know what to say for a moment. Zayn-the guy who had just been hearing a microwave speak-was suddenly relaying knowledge akin to a philosopher.

            “Some things are my fault,” he said when nothing else came to him because he needed someone to agree; needed someone to blame him instead of making excuses. Zayn, however, gave a noncommittal,

            “Maybe. But we’re all just trying to survive. We’re selfish beings by nature-some more than others-but everything we do is to try and make sure we keep living on.”

            Harry wanted to argue. Not everyone was selfish. Louis was the most un-selfish person he knew, but, then again, that could be why he had such a problem being on this Earth; why he tried to leave many times.

            “You deserve everything good that happens to you, Zayn,” Harry said, his heart going out to the little boy who seemingly escaped his childhood by sending half of his mind to another, made-up universe.

            “Yeah, but you do too,” Zayn said. For a moment, Harry almost believed him.

 

***Louis***

            Louis came to as the bed shifted, and Harry gently shushed him when he made a sleepy sound of confusion.

            “Sorry,” his boyfriend whispered.

            “You okay?” Louis slurred, his voice thick.

            “Mhm,” Harry replied, leaning over Louis’s laying form to kiss him. “I brushed my teeth,” he promised, and Louis gave a slight laugh.

            “Taste good,” he said.

            Harry laid beside him and Louis rolled over so that they could be face-to-face. He noticed some sunlight pouring underneath the black-out curtains and felt anxiety for what Harry had to do soon.

            “What time’s it?” Louis asked, rubbing his eyes that kept wanting to close.

            “A little after seven,” Harry answered.

            “Have you gotten any sleep?”

            “My few minutes of unconsciousness was my sleep for the night.”

            Louis rested his hand on Harry’s leg, rubbing it gently as a small form of comfort.

            “Are you going to try to sleep now?”

            “Nah. It will be pointless.”

            Deciding that if Harry wasn’t going to get any sleep, then Louis wasn’t going to fall back to sleep either, he sat up.

            “Do you want me to go get us some food?” he asked. “You probably need something in your system.”

            “I know I do, but I don’t think any eating is going to happen until I either find out everything is going to be okay or I get arrested.”

            “I understand,” Louis assured Harry and very carefully kissed his lips, making sure not to brush any wound, which was not an easy task, as Harry had more cuts on his face than clear space. “But everything is going to be okay.”

            “I hope you’re right.”

            Louis didn’t say so, but he felt, deep down, as if he was. He knew life wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t fathom that it would finally put everything on the right track only to rip it apart again; not this time.

            “When are you going to call?” he asked quietly. He knew Harry was nervous, but nothing was going to change, at least for the better, the longer he delayed it.

            “Now, I guess,” Harry sighed. He sat up again and reached for the phone that Liam had set on the nightstand last night. Multiple times, he locked and unlocked it until, finally, he sighed again and stood up.

            “I’m going to step outside,” he said.

            “Do you want me to come with you?” Louis asked.

            “No, I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Thank you, but I think I need to do this by myself.”

            “Okay, love.”

            Louis squeezed his hand and offered a small smile. Harry didn’t even attempt to return it, but Louis didn’t hold it against him.

            “I’ll be right here, no matter what happens.”

            “I know you will.”

            Despite the terrible circumstances, it felt nice to hear Harry say that. He was so used to abandonment that he always expected it, so to know that Harry was confident Louis wasn’t going anywhere was one of the best feelings he’d had in a long time.

            Harry didn’t go on the balcony to call his parole officer, but instead went all the way downstairs and outside the hotel. Again, Louis wouldn’t hold that against him. Even in a committed, loving relationship, sometimes one just needed privacy. There were some things Louis couldn’t face for Harry, as much as he wanted to.

            Just a few minutes after Harry left, Niall awoke with a loud groan and twisted around as he sat up to crack his back.

            “Christ,” the Irishman said.

            “‘Morning,” Louis greeted.

            Simultaneously, Liam and Zayn woke as well, looking around blearily before untangling themselves from each other and rubbing their eyes at the same time.

            “Thank you all for staying,” Louis said, feeling bad because he knew that all of them had to be sore due to their less than ideal sleeping conditions.

            “Well, what did you expect; we were just going to leave you two alone to deal with the aftermath of earlier if that maniacal piece of shit decided he wanted revenge?” Niall asked.

            “No, I didn’t expect it,” Louis said, “but I couldn’t have blamed you if so.”

            Niall rolled his eyes as he stood up and wordlessly went to the bathroom. He always was a bit grumpy in the mornings, and Louis couldn’t help but to smile.

            “How are you feeling, Zayn?” Louis asked as Niall closed the door to the bathroom to do whatever morning business he needed to get done.

            “Fine,” Zayn said. “Sorry I kind of freaked out last night.”

            “You held yourself together very well,” Liam assured Zayn before Louis could.

            “Nothing to apologize for, mate,” Louis said. “You lot saved our arses.”

            “You could have done it yourselves,” Zayn said, “but why would we have wanted you to?”

            It was a rhetorical question, and Louis knew that, so he simply smiled, grateful for this group of amazing people he had somehow gotten lucky enough to have in his life.

            “Where’s Harry?” Liam asked after looking around in concern.

            “Outside, calling his PO,” Louis said.

            “You think they’ll believe him, right?” Liam questioned. His forehead was creased, his eyebrows pulled together, and he kept nervously folding and unfolding his hands.

            “Harry has us on his side, as well as his sister. Plus, if we can get Logan from the club to confirm that he pretended to be me, it will at least show that he’s off his rocker because, seriously, who does that?”

            Liam nodded, looking a bit more relaxed, but still clearly anxious. In the next instant, Niall exited the bathroom, appearing a bit more chipper, and asked,

            “So, what’s going on? Do we have time to order breakfast?”

            “I don’t know. He’s outside talking to his PO now,” Louis informed Niall. “You can go ahead and order something, though. I doubt we’ll need you guys for a while, if they even question you.”

            “I’ll just get something from the vending machine in case,” Niall decided, taking his wallet from the TV stand where he’d laid it previously. “Anyone else want anything?”

            The others thanked him, but assured him they were fine, and Niall left the room in search of breakfast. Even once he returned with a packet of donuts, everyone was silent until Harry entered the room nearly ten minutes later. His eyes were splotchy, but it was obvious he’d done his best to hide the fact that he’d been crying, so Louis didn’t say anything. Luckily, neither did the others.

            “I have to meet him at the hospital,” Harry said. “He wants to see exactly what’s in my system.”

            Louis assured Harry that he would, of course, go with him. Since they’d all piled into the back of Liam’s car after running from Duke’s house, Liam dropped them off before taking Niall then going back to Duke’s to get Harry’s car. Both Louis and Harry were nervous about them going back there, but Zayn texted Louis a short while later to assure him that everyone was safe and sound, and that Harry’s car was at the hospital waiting for them. He also insisted he let them know if they needed help, back-up or support for anything.

            Harry’s PO was nice, Louis thought, despite greeting the two with a shocked ‘holy fucking shit’ when he saw Harry’s face. He shook hands with Louis as Harry introduced him, and questioned them without sounding disbelieving or condescending, even though Louis was sure others that had fallen off the wagon had claimed to have been drugged even though it wasn’t true, unlike in Harry’s case.

            Gemma, however, wanted to take matters into her own hands and turned up at the hospital when she found out where the boys were. She replayed everything she’d experienced last night to Harry’s parole officer and insisted that Duke be arrested. Emmett, the PO, assured her he would do everything he could to punish the responsible party or parties.

            The hospital decided to give Harry a saliva test in the hopes that they could receive quicker results, and in a few long hours, it was shown that Rohypnol was the one and only drug in Harry’s system, unsurprising to any of them. That made his case stronger, Emmett said, because that was an unlikely drug to willingly ingest. It wasn’t unheard of, since addicts will take nearly anything, especially if planning to make it seem like someone drugged them, he’d said, but he still felt Harry had a solid case.

            “All I want is a restraining order and to not go to jail,” Harry said.

            “Harry, if all of what you’re saying is true, like I think it is, you could get _him_ jail time.”

            “I don’t care,” Harry said. “I want him to pay for what he’s done, but, mainly, I just want to be through with him. I don’t want to see him or hear his name anymore. As long as he can’t come near me, Lou, or our families again, I’ll be happy.”

            Emmett looked at Louis, silently begging him to convince Harry to change his mind, but Louis couldn’t. Harry was going to do, or not do, whatever he wanted to, and the only thing that would happen if he fought against those wishes was push Harry away. Making Duke suffer for what he’d done to Harry was high on Louis’s priority list but helping Harry to heal was higher.

            Before all parties left the hospital, Emmett assured Harry that he would be in touch as soon as he found him a decent lawyer. Though he’d assured he was only hiring the lawyer to make it even more likely that they received the restraining order Harry clearly needed, Harry was still notably uncomfortable with the situation.

            “I think you should file a restraining order too,” Harry told Louis once they were back in the car, on the way to the courthouse to pick up the papers Harry needed to complete to start the whole process.

            “I’m not the one he drugged and abducted,” Louis said.

            “No, but I was just the bait. _You_ were the one he really wanted, and he’ll find other ways to get to you, even without me.”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “I do. Please, Lou.”

            “I’m not sure mine would even be granted, Harry.”

            “At least try?”

            Harry sounded so desperate and scared that Louis agreed. He didn’t think Duke would come after him, especially if Harry’s restraining order was granted, which it bloody better have been, because he would at least know they were serious about not taking his abuse anymore. No longer were they under his spell or allowing themselves to roll over in fear. They were standing up for themselves and each other and Duke was going to have no idea what to do with these new, stronger versions of the men he’d thought he had complete control over.

            After filling out the paperwork together, Harry miraculously was able to catch a couple hours of sleep. It was fitful, and Louis wasn’t sure whether he was having nightmares or if his restlessness was a result of his insomnia, but it broke his heart to see anyway. He wanted to play with Harry’s hair or massage his back and shush him gently, assuring him that everything was going to be okay, but he knew that one touch or sound would probably wake his boyfriend, and so he refrained. In fact, he barely moved or made a sound for that whole two hours, and then Harry woke with a sigh and a groan, sitting up just enough to see Louis there and then laying back down, his stare fixed unblinkingly at the ceiling.

            “You okay?” Louis asked as he crawled on the bed next to his boyfriend. Before he could answer, Louis amended, “Well, I know you’re not _okay_ , but are you feeling any better?”

            “I’m alright, love,” Harry said, offering Louis a small, belated smile and then touching the top of his hand. “I was just thinking.”

            “Would you like to tell me what about?”

            “I should probably take pictures of my face like this,” Harry said. “By the time I get a hearing, my face might be healed, and it will be our word against his. I clearly didn’t do this to myself.”

            “True,” Louis said, hating the thought of memorializing the previous night. He supposed they could delete the pictures as soon as Harry’s restraining order was granted. “Would you like me to take them?”

            “It’s okay,” Harry told him. “I think I’ll go to the bathroom and take them myself. Then…”

            “Then?”

            “Then I think I’ll get washed up and take you on a date.”

            “Oh, Harry, love, you really don’t have to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super excited for our first date, but you’ve been through quite the ordeal.”

            “We had a date planned,” Harry continued. “My face hurts, but it’s going to hurt whether I’m here or out with you. I’m not letting him take more of my time than he already had. I won’t sit here and be sad and miserable. I want to take you on a date.”

            “Alright,” Louis said, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly. He had been so afraid that the trauma of last night would hinder Harry’s improvements, and maybe Harry was still running on adrenaline and hadn’t fully grasped everything yet, but he seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be okay; not great, not good, but okay, and Louis couldn’t ask for more.

            “Where are we going?” he asked.

            “I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “I had our date planned, but it was an all-day thing, and more than half of the day has already been spent, so I think we’ll have to save that for our second date. Is there anything in particular you want to do?”

            “Eat, if I’m being honest,” Louis said with a small laugh. Harry smiled, briefly, because Louis suspected doing so was painful, but the attempt still made his heart warm.

            “Yeah, I’m hungry too,” Harry agreed. “We’ll go to dinner and decide what we want to do from there.”

            No amount of makeup was going to hide all of the swelling, bruising, and cuts on Harry’s face, but with his skills, he’d managed to make his injuries look nearly a week old and not like it had just been done yesterday. People still stared, which made Louis angry, but Harry didn’t seem too bothered by it. However, he did roll his eyes and laugh at Louis when he told him he was beautiful.

            “This should have happened next month,” Harry commented. They were sitting down at the table, waiting for the waitress to come back with their much-needed alcohol. “I could have been a zombie for Halloween.”

            “A sexy zombie,” Louis added. Harry laughed, and then his eyes widened.

            “That’s it!” he said as if an epiphany had struck him.

            “What’s what?” Louis asked.

            “Let’s go to a haunted house!”

            “A haunted house? Like, a real one?”

            “No, just one of those dumb Halloween attractions. I believe most of them opened this weekend.”           

            “I’ve never been to one before,” Louis admitted, and Harry looked at him as if his nose had grown two feet long.

            “Really?” he asked disbelievingly.

            “Truly.”

            “Let’s go then,” he said, and then quirked an eyebrow as a mischievous smile spread across his face. “Unless you’re scared,” he teased.

            “I’m not scared of anything,” Louis claimed. Harry snorted, and Louis blamed the swelling in his nose.

            “Alright then, brave one. It’s on.”

            The men were fairly intoxicated by the time they left the restaurant. Neither of them had driven, so after calling a taxi, they asked the driver to take them to the nearest haunted attraction that they had been able to find with a quick Google search.

            “Getting an early start to Halloween, eh?” the driver asked, making polite conversation.

            “I work there. Can’t you tell?” Harry said, and Louis smiled.

            “You’re too pretty to be quite scary,” he told his boyfriend.

            “It’s the pretty ones you should be scared of, didn’t you know?” Harry retorted, taking Louis’s hand.

            When deciding that he wanted to go to a haunted attraction, Harry clearly had not taken his recent trauma into account. It was all fun and games until they actually entered the house and a ‘monster’ jumped out at him. Harry’s scream alone caused another person to scream, Louis thought, and Harry gripped onto his boyfriend’s arm so tightly that Louis thought he may eventually lose circulation if he didn’t loosen up.

            “This was a terrible idea,” Harry said into his ear. They were still drunk, so his words were slurred, but the terror behind them was real. “I’m not as brave as I once was.”

            “I’ve got you, babe,” Louis assured him. “No monster is going to hurt you again.”

            Of course, his scream had attracted the interest of several of the workers inside the attraction and Harry became a target for things to jump out at. Normally, Louis would find it amusing if someone were so frightened of what he deemed a pretty stupid haunted attraction, but Harry’s terror was real. In his head, every monster took Duke’s form. Each wanted to cause him just as much harm as the man had.

            After Harry’s third deafening scream, Louis gently pulled the other man behind him, twisting his arms backwards to wrap them around Harry’s waist. Harry, in turn, kept a tight grip on Louis’s shirt, and the other could feel him shaking.

            “Sorry,” Harry said into his ear. “This is a terrible first date.”

            Louis knew he wouldn’t hear him if he assured him that it wasn’t, so instead he turned his head just enough to place a quick kiss on his boyfriend’s arm. After a few moments of walking with Louis as his human shield, Harry stopped shaking so much.

            “Well that was the worst idea I’ve had in a while,” Harry commented once they were out of the house. He doubled over slightly, as if he might pass out, and Louis put a supportive arm around his waist. “I need another drink.”

            And so the two walked down the road to a bar they’d seen as the taxi had driven them to the haunted attraction. Once they were seated with their alcohol, Harry managed a small smile.

            “Sorry I’ve turned into a chicken shit,” he said.

            “You have nothing to apologize for, and in retrospect, I should have known it was a bad idea. You’re not a chicken, you’ve just been traumatized. I love you.”

            “I love you too,” Harry replied. “But I am calling it now; this does not count as our first date.”

            “Yes, it does.”

            “No, it doesn’t.”

            “Does so.”

            “No. I’m not spending our whole first date drunk and screaming…at least not if it’s in the bad way.”

            Harry had the audacity to give him a mild smirk, and Louis rolled his eyes, hoping he’d succeeded in fighting off the smile he felt. He wanted to make some kind of witty remark, but when he looked back at Harry, his boyfriend had the faintest of smiles on his own face. One of his eyebrows was lifted and he was gazing at Louis intensely.

            “God, you’re so hot,” Louis said instead.

            “You think?”

            “Yeah. I really do.”

            Without another word, Louis went back to the bar and ordered one shot for each of them. He hadn’t been the first in line, and when he got tired of waiting, Harry joined him, slipping his arms around Louis’s waist and pressing a kiss into the side of his neck. Louis shivered. Harry noticed and smirked against his skin.

            “Want to throw a few back and then head home?” he asked. All Louis could do was nod.

 

            “You still think I’m hot even with my face like this?” Harry asked only a few moments after the two had collapsed on the bed and he received a moment’s rest from Louis’s lips pressed against his own.

            “You’re so hot, always,” Louis, who was straddling Harry, replied as he allowed the other to slip his shirt off. They kissed for a little while longer, Harry’s hands appreciating Louis’s hips, stomach and biceps while Louis kept his fingers laced through Harry’s hair.

            “Can I undo your belt?” Louis asked once kissing wasn’t enough anymore. Harry hesitated for only a moment before replying.

            “You can,” he said, “but you didn’t want to do this while drunk and before our first date, did you?”

            “Do you know I love you?” Louis asked.

            “Of course,” Harry replied, making Louis’s chest hurt from how hard his heart fluttered.

            “Then I’m fine with it,” he decided.

            Louis leaned forward to kiss Harry again, but the other moved his head back, placing a gentle finger on Louis’s lips.

            “Hold on, Lou, do you know that I love you?”

            Louis only hesitated for a split second before answering, but it was a second too long because when he gave his ‘yes,’ Harry looked at him disbelievingly and shook his head, as if to himself, before gently moving Louis beside of him.

            “Fucking and fleeing is what I used to do, Lou,” Harry said. “I won’t do that to you, but I don’t want you to have to put blind faith in my words. I want you to know, without a doubt, that’s it’s the truth.”

            “I do know.”

            Or, at least Louis thought he did, but Harry had other ideas.

            “You don’t. I can see it in your eyes, not only now, but always. When things are good, you’re apprehensive, thinking it’s all going to fall apart, and when they’re bad, you’re terrified that I’m going to run. I don’t blame you. It hasn’t been that long yet and my track record isn’t great. But you’ve let yourself be vulnerable around me so many times and I’ve used it against you, whether I meant to or not. I don’t want to take from you anymore until I have your complete trust.”

            “I trust you.”

            “In some ways, I know you do. But one day, I hope I give you reason to trust me in every way. I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want you to be always afraid of losing me.”

            Louis sighed; not aggravated, just tired. Harry seemed to understand, and he kissed him.

            “It will be magical when it happens,” Louis said, laying his head on the pillow. Harry laid down as well.

            “I’m working on it, Lou.”

            “I meant the sex.”

            Harry snorted, his thumb tracing random patterns in the skin of Louis’s arm.

            “It will be quite magical indeed.”

            “Well, thank you for a great first date tonight, Harry. It was totally worth the wait.”

            “This wasn’t our first date.”

            “Yes, it was.”

            It was Harry’s turn to sigh.

            “It’s going to be a long eternity with you, isn’t it?” he joked. Louis smiled.

            “I sure hope so,” he said.


	23. Chapter 23

            “I don’t want to do this.”

            “Love, we’ve got to. And look how adorable you look in your suit.”

            Harry managed to briefly smile after Louis kissed him’ something that had been quite brave of Louis to do, considering it appeared that Harry just may be sick at any moment.

            “They’re not going to grant my restraining order,” Harry continued, sitting on the bed as Louis hurriedly put his shoes on. “They’re going to think I’m lying or over-exaggerating, and that I wasted everyone’s time requesting this.”

            “You don’t know that,” Louis said, putting his wallet in his pocket after tying his shoes. He headed towards the door, but Harry didn’t follow.

            “Babe, we’re going to be late,” Louis said, trying to keep his voice soft while panic was consuming him.

            “I’m scared,” Harry said quietly, looking frail as he averted his gaze down to his trembling hands. But Harry wasn’t frail, he was strong, and sometimes he just needed reminded of that.

            “Harry,” Louis said, striding back over to his boyfriend and putting one hand on his shoulder while gently lifting his chin up with his other. “It’s fine to be scared. It’s expected, but you can do this. _We_ can do this. Whether we win or not, at least we fought, and if they don’t believe us, then fuck them. We know the truth. Everyone that’s important in our lives knows the truth. Emmet already assured you that you’re not being taken to jail for the drugs they found in your system, which seems to me like they believe you. We’re getting our restraining orders today so that we never have to see that psychotic piece of shit again.”

            “And if we don’t?” Harry asked. “Or if only one of ours gets approved?”

            “Well, we’re almost always together anyway,” Louis pointed out.

            “What about when we’re not?”

            “How about we worry about that if we find out it’s necessary?”

            “No. I need to know we’ll have a plan.”

            “We will if we _have_ to. Now come on.”

            Louis took Harry’s hand and tugged on it until he stood.

            “I really don’t think these suits were necessary,” Harry commented as he finally allowed his boyfriend to lead him to the door.

            “Probably not,” Louis said. “But it wears you well.”

            “You look pretty sexy in yours as well, sir.”

            “Easy now. I don’t want to be too distracted in court.”

            “I may need a distraction,” Harry said.

            “Win or lose, we’ll celebrate when it’s over,” Louis promised.

            The elevator reached their floor and opened.

            “After you,” Louis allowed, holding the doors but allowing the other man to enter first.

            “Thank you,” Harry said, stepping into the empty elevator. Louis followed. The doors shut behind him and as soon as they were concealed, Louis decided to give his boyfriend’s behind a nice, friendly pinch. Harry jolted and narrowed his eyes at the other.

            “You brat,” he said, but before Louis could spit out a snarky reply, Harry pushed him gently against the handrail and kissed him for the entire duration of the too-short elevator ride.

            Technically, the hearing didn’t take long, but it seemed like the men spent all day waiting to hear if they would be lawfully protected from their abuser or if they would be disregarded and disbelieved, as they were used to. The attorney that Gemma and Lottie hired for their brothers was good, but nothing, of course, could be guaranteed. As cool as Louis was playing for Harry, he was scared too. So far, there had been radio silence coming from Duke, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t planning something. Besides, it went deeper than that. What Louis said had been true; he and Harry knew the truth, as well as their friends and family, but being called a liar once again would no doubt reopen old wounds for them both.

            Finally, the judge gave his verdict; Duke was not to come within 1000 feet of the men, nor was he allowed to contact them, or have someone contact them for him, in any way.

            Louis heard the verdict, but the judge’s words didn’t truly register until Harry let out a small cry of triumph and lifted Louis off the ground, spinning him in a circle two times around. It was such a rare moment of genuine happiness from Harry that Louis knew then just how much weight those words carried, and he was surprised to find that there were a few drops of moisture on his cheeks by the time Harry set him back on his feet. Harry’s cheeks were still dry, but there was a shine to his eyes that hinted they may not stay that way for long, and he was smiling in a way that made him look at least three years younger.

            “We won,” Louis said, almost inaudibly, and Harry, the one who had been struggling to hold it together that morning, nodded, pulling Louis tightly against his chest.

            “We won,” he said, his voice unquivering.

            Louis had plans to take Harry to their hotel room, rip the suit right off of him, climb on top of him on the bed, and make love to him if they won. They’d refrained before due to Harry still working on gaining Louis’s last bit of trust, but Louis had seen another side of him the past couple of weeks. They had been almost like a typical couple; cooking breakfast together, brushing their teeth in the sink at the same time, waiting up for one another when they had to work, and arguing over silly things like a shoe left in the middle of the floor that nearly made the other fall and become ‘concussed.’ The arguments never lasted long and there was plenty of kissing to make up for them.

            Once arriving back to the hotel after the hearing, however, the initial excitement of winning had passed and exhaustion took its place. Instead of doing the things Louis had planned, they undressed themselves and collapsed on the bed side-by-side. One of Harry’s legs was across both of Louis’s, and their pinkies were intertwined, but other than that, there was no physical contact. It was still lovely, though, Louis thought.

            Liam, Zayn, and Niall took their friends out to dinner that evening to celebrate. While eating, Louis couldn’t help but to wonder if Duke had heard the news yet, and he wondered how he felt, or would feel. Would he be angry? Regretful? Sad? Would- _could_ -he truly feel anything at all?

            It didn’t matter, of course. Louis no longer cared about the man even a little, but he wondered, nonetheless.

            “Okay, so, I know nothing can top winning your case today,” Zayn spoke after their dinner was finished and another round of drinks arrived with dessert. “But Li and I have more good news.”

            “The house?” Louis asked, sitting up straighter. He was having a good time with his friends, but he was still quite tired and felt bad that he wished the night was over and that he was in bed.

            “Yeah,” Zayn said, and patted Liam’s arm, silently asking him to continue.

            “Mr. and Mrs. Dobson think you two would be a great couple to let rent their house,” Liam said. Harry and Louis looked at each other, wide smiles breaking across their faces. Louis didn’t know what was in the air today, but if this luck could continue for a while, he would be grateful.

            “They said you were adorable,” Liam continued. “And even though they don’t know much of what either of you have been through, they’re excited to help you to get a fresh start.”

            “Liam, I…I…oh, jeez, I don’t know what I’m trying to say, but thank you,” Louis stammered as Harry gently squeezed his knee.

            “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything. I think they’re planning to call you tomorrow and tell you, but Zayn and I just couldn’t wait.”

            Louis felt moisture well up in his eyes again, and even though they were happy tears, this was not the time to cry, so he took a big swallow of his drink.

            “We’re all so proud of you,” Niall said, touching Louis’s wrist after he’d set his glass back down. With a polite nod to Harry, he added, “Both of you.”

            As Liam had predicted, Mr. and Mrs. Dobson called them the next day to tell them they could rent their house if they wanted. Even though they’d already been told they were approved, that didn’t make their excitement or gratitude any less real when they received the call. They made plans to sign their contract the following day, and the day after that, Harry said, they were going on their first date.

            “The haunted house was our first date,” Louis reminded the other.

            “Was not,” he replied.

“Was so.”

            “Shut up,” Harry said, and kissed Louis.

            Louis and Harry were set to move into the rental house on the eleventh of the next month; just two weeks away. Mr. and Mrs. Dobson gave them the keys early so they could get another look before they moved in, just in case they wanted to change any of the décor. They were leaving their furniture for the guys, and even though Louis would probably not have purchased most of the pieces himself, he still thought it was perfect. He and Harry drove over to have another look, though; just because they wanted to.

            “Our first house together,” Harry commented, as if in awe, as they entered the place where they would be living in two short weeks.

            “Your first house that’s truly a home,” Louis said, shutting the front door and pulling Harry closer by the hips. They gave each other one long, meaningful kiss, then broke apart and smiled.

            “I’m glad I get to share it with you,” Harry told him.

 

            True to his word, Harry took Louis on their first date (or second, depending on who you asked) the next day. First, they went to breakfast at an eloquent little café down the street. After that, Harry said he had a surprise, but when he parked at their destination, Louis was left confused. He’d been expecting to be taken to a public place; a museum or park or somewhere that wasn’t a home (though an admittedly nice one) in the suburbs a few miles from where they were staying.

            “Um…what’s this?” Louis asked, not rudely, just curious. Harry turned off the car and held Louis’s hand. Louis couldn’t quite make out his expression.

            “You can tell me to fuck off and we’ll drive away and forget I ever had this potentially dumb idea,” Harry said.

            “Should I be scared?”

            “No. It’s just…Okay, well, Duke told me about how, when you were still with your biological parents, you had this dog-”

            “Molly,” Louis interjected, feeling a lump in his throat already.

            “Yeah. Molly,” Harry said. Louis nodded, encouraging him to go on.

            “He told me about how she was the only thing you missed from that place; how, even though she was a Dalmatian and that breed is supposedly bad with kids, she was your best friend. He said the night you got taken away, it’s because she slipped out the front door while you were trying to run, and she got one of the neighbors to come find you.”

            Louis nodded, clearing his throat before speaking.

            “And I never saw her again. I don’t know…I don’t know if they hurt her or not.”  

            “I wish I had that answer and could tell you a definite no,” Harry said. “The lady that lives here fosters dogs and she has a Dalmatian puppy who’s looking for a good home. I asked Mr. and Mrs. Dobson and they’re both okay with us having a puppy. We can’t bring her to the hotel, but Katie, the lady with the dog, said she’d hold her for us if we pay half in advance.”

            “I…I didn’t bring that much money,” Louis said, blinking tears away. Harry kissed the top of his hand.

            “I did,” he assured the other. “I’m not trying to push you into anything, though. If you don’t want a dog yet-or at all-we’ll drive away right now.”

            “I want to see her,” Louis said.

            “Alright then,” Harry said. He gave him a kiss and then opened his car door. Louis followed suit.

            Katie opened the door mere seconds after Harry rang the bell, hinting that she was expecting them; maybe even already knew they were there.

            “Hello!” the slightly older woman greeted in a cheery voice. She had squared glasses that made her friendly blue eyes pop, and round cheeks. Her skin glowed just like her smile.

            They all gave short, polite introductions, and then Katie noticed Louis looking not-so-subtly around for the dog.

            “She’s this way,” Katie said, motioning for the men to follow her. “She was working diligently on a bone when I went to open the door.”

            The puppy was still chewing her bone when the three entered the living room, but she stopped when she noticed company. Wagging her tail, she first went to Katie to receive a brief scratch behind the ears and then made her way over to sniff her potential new owners.

            Louis fell in love with her faster than he had Harry.

            “Oh my god, she looks just like a puppy version of Molly!” he exclaimed, his voice so soft and high that he barely recognized it as his own.

            “You can pet her,” Katie allowed. “She’s very friendly.”

            Louis sunk down to his knees to pet the animal, who began licking him excitedly. He nearly started crying again.

            “She’s so sweet,” Louis said, thinking he probably needed to be committed for getting so emotional over being licked by a dog he just met, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be ashamed. Before he’d been adopted, Molly had been the one living creature he could trust. Even though he’d loved his aunt, even before living with her, he hadn’t always trusted her because his younger self had assumed she knew about the abuse he was facing at home and didn’t care to help. Louis was eleven years old before he found out she’d been in the dark until receiving the call that he’d been hospitalized with multiple broken bones and various other injuries. He’d also found out that she threatened to run away with Louis if they gave him back to his parents or put him in the system, and that was when everyone decided that Louis belonged with her.

            Harry, of course, wasn’t judging Louis for his sudden inability to control his emotions, and he wondered if his boyfriend had told Katie a bit of his story because she was smiling at him kindly instead of looking like she was contemplating calling a mental hospital.

            “I call her Dottie,” Katie said, “but she’s not used to it yet, so you can name her whatever you want.”

            “She didn’t have a name when she came here?” Louis asked.

            “No,” the woman replied. “She was found dumped on a highway.”

            Louis gasped, instinctively picking up the puppy, who had put her paws on his knees.

            “Who could dump you?” Louis asked the animal, who licked his chin.

            “She wasn’t just a runaway?” Harry asked. “Once we adopt her, no one can take her back, right?”

            “Once you adopt her, she’s yours,” Katie assured them. “The legal amount of time someone had to claim her is up, so they can’t take her after the papers are signed.”

            “Good,” Harry said as Louis gave the puppy a kiss on top of her head.

            “Do we think that’s a yes, then?” Katie asked, looking to Louis with a small, kind smile on her face.

            “Yes,” Louis answered without consulting Harry, but the other man gave a light-hearted laugh.

            “Apparently so,” he said to the woman.

            “Great! If you’d like to sit with me, I just have a few questions and things to go over…”

            The puppy was starting to grow restless as Louis and Harry talked with Katie; going over the information everyone needed to ensure the men would be good puppy parents. Reluctantly, Louis put her on the ground, but after grabbing her bone, she laid on Louis’s feet.

            “She really loves you,” Harry said. “Maybe she’s Molly reincarnated.”

            Louis laughed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about reincarnation, but it was nice to think that this puppy could be another version of his long-lost friend. Either way, he knew he was going to love her forever now that he’d met her, and the possibility of Katie deciding that they wouldn’t be good puppy parents terrified him.

            Luckily, that didn’t happen. After granting them permission to adopt, Katie had the men fill out some forms, Harry paid half of the adoption fee, and then the men said a tearful goodbye. Maybe it was only Louis getting emotional, but Harry had given the animal a tender kiss on the head, and by the smile on his face, Louis knew he would grow to love her too.

            “I want to move in today,” Louis whined at his boyfriend once they got into his car. “Then we could go back and get Molly later tonight.”

            “If we could, we would,” Harry said as he smiled adoringly at Louis and played with the back of his hair. “Did you mean to call the puppy Molly just now or was that a slip?”

            “It was a slip,” Louis said, having not even realized he’d done it until Harry called his attention to the error. “But I think I would like to call her Molly if…if that’s okay with you?”

            “Of course,” Harry said. “I’ll even text Katie later and let her know so she can start getting our baby used to her new name.”

            “Our baby,” Louis repeated with a small, happy laugh. “We do move fast, don’t we?”

            “The way I see it, this is where we would be if we’d gotten together four years ago, as we should have.”

            “Good point,” Louis agreed, but refused to further look into the what-ifs. They’d never done him any good, and even with the longest detour he could have imagined, he and Harry were somehow ending up where they needed to be.

            After leaving Katie’s, Harry took Louis to ride bikes along the boardwalk. That activity proved to the men just how badly they needed regular exercise, so then they went to join a gym. They grabbed some lunch after that, and Louis was happy to see that bike riding had kicked Harry’s appetite into gear, and as long as Louis wasn’t directly looking at him, he ate his food without much of a struggle; an outward one, at least.

            Once lunch was over, Harry informed Louis that he had a decision to make; they could either go to the tattoo shop where Louis would be permitted to ink whatever he wished on Harry’s body, or they could do ‘literally’ anything else of his choosing. Louis decided on the tattoo idea.

            “Hey! What are you two doing here?” Zayn asked happily when the two walked into the shop. To Louis’s surprise, Liam wasn’t there, and Zayn hadn’t been on his phone texting him like he was nearly constantly doing when the two were apart.

            “Just came to give Harry a tattoo,” Louis explained, and couldn’t help but to tease, “There’s not trouble in paradise, is there?”

            “What do you mean?” Zayn asked, frowning in confusion.

            “There’s no sign of Liam around,” Louis explained.

            “Oh,” Zayn said with a laugh. “I’m waiting for him to reply to my text. It’s been six whole minutes so he might be in a bit of trouble tonight, but besides that, everything is good.”

            “Glad to hear it,” Louis said with a smile. “Have any appointments coming up?”

            “Yeah, in a few minutes, but you’re free to use the second space.”

            “Thanks.”

            “No problem. So what are you getting today, Harry?”

            “I’ve no idea,” Harry replied, smiling only slightly nervously at Louis. “I told Lou it’s up to him.”

            “You’re a brave man,” Zayn said. Harry laughed and Louis smiled, but squeezed Harry’s hand.

            “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

            After receiving a ‘good luck’ from Zayn-Louis wasn’t even quite sure if it had been for him or Harry-Louis led his boyfriend to the smaller tattoo space in the back of the shop.

            “Any idea where you’d like the tattoo, love?” Louis asked as he habitually went to the sink to wash his hands.

            “It’s all up to you,” Harry said.

            “Oh, really?”

            “Well…uh…Please just not the penis, please.”

            “Damn. Ruined all my plans.”

            Louis winked and Harry smiled.

            “The rest is fair game,” he allowed.

            “You _are_ a brave soul.”

            “I trust you.”

            “I’m glad you do.”

            Harry had taken a seat in the chair, so Louis pulled the stool out of the corner and sat down in front of his boyfriend.

            “What area causes you the most insecurity?” he asked gently. Harry gave him a questioning look, but replied,

            “That’s a hard question. I have so many.”

            “I know, and I hate it when you pick yourself apart,” Louis said, resting one hand on Harry’s thigh. “Just for this one time, though, if you had to choose…”

            “Um…,” Harry muttered quietly. His hands began traveling his body, pinching every inch of skin that it could, and Louis was just about to stop him when he made his decision.

            “Here,” he said, squeezing his hips.

            “They’re perfect,” Louis said, lacing his fingers with Harry’s so that he wasn’t pinching his skin anymore. “But okay, thank you.”

            “You’re going to tattoo my hips?” Harry guessed when Louis stood to get the ink and needle ready.

            “One of them, if you don’t mind,” Louis said.

            “Go ahead,” Harry allowed. “Don’t know why you’d want to look at them long enough for that, though.”

            “Because I love them,” Louis said, and Harry snorted.

            “I wasn’t being funny,” Louis said. He leaned over to kiss Harry, keeping the needle far away from him and then joked,

            “Plus, have you seen the extra hip I have going on these days? Christ.”

            Harry laughed, looking Louis up and down and absent-mindedly licking his lips before he said,

            “I think your hips are fine, but we joined a gym today. Can you imagine how sexy we’re going to be in a couple months?”

            “So sexy,” Louis said, and then, “Can you lift up your shirt and slide your pants down for me a bit, babe?”

            Taking things one step further, Harry completely removed his shit and slid his trousers down to his knees.

            “That works,” Louis said after becoming momentarily distracted. Harry smiled shyly.

            “Are you ready?” Louis asked, slipping his gloves onto his hands.

            “Yeah, but can I tell you something?”

            “You can tell me anything.”

            “I think another reason I don’t like my hips, besides the way they look, is because that’s where people always grab. The guys that picked me up when I was working the streets…Most of them had hidden anger and needed dominance. I lost count of how many fingerprint bruises I’ve had indented into me, and sometimes when someone would see another’s mark, they would get angry and tell me I was disgusting and then they would try to make their own mark darker.”

            Louis shook his head, not wanting to hear those words, but glad Harry told him. Finally, he was truly opening up, even while sober; even without Louis showing a part of himself first.

            “No one else ever has to touch you again unless you want them to,” Louis told the other. Harry pulled his eyebrows together, cocking his head slightly to the side.

            “Why would I want to be touched by anyone but you?”

            “Stranger things have happened, Harry.”

            “Nah. Pretty sure that’s not true.”

            Louis laughed, shaking his head again, but this time in amusement.

            “Just let me know when you’re ready, my love.”

 

***Harry***

            Getting tattooed by Louis was a sensual experience. He never would have admitted it before. In fact, he’d forced those very thoughts away in the past, but it had always been true. There was something equal parts relaxing and exciting about the contrast of burning pain of the needle and the soft touch of Louis’s fingers. Louis was always beautiful, but it was a special kind of captivating to watch him go from having his lips pulled tight in concentration to pursed when tracing a line he felt confident about, and then to see that wide smile as he wiped excess ink off a bit of raw skin and was happy with what he saw underneath. He made small ‘hm’s as he worked, and Harry wished he had enough skin for Louis to keep creating art on his body forever.

            “Done,” he said after what felt like a while, but probably wasn’t all that long. Louis helped Harry pull his pants up to just a few inches below his new tattoo and then led him to a mirror.

            Harry was already fairly sure that Louis had been writing words into his skin, but he gasped when he saw the final product. In bold black ink, Louis had neatly etched, ‘ **Beautiful & Free**’ into the part of his hip that connected with his thigh. A small rose wove into the ‘B’ on ‘beautiful,’ and a butterfly flew out of the last ‘e’ on ‘free.’

            “Do you like it?” Louis asked, smiling even though he sounded borderline petrified.

            “I love it,” Harry said, unable to take his eyes off the word ‘free.’

            “Hopefully you don’t mind that you have two butterflies on you now.”

            “Not at all.”

            Harry stole a kiss from Louis, who put a gentle hand on his unmarked side.

            “You are beautiful,” Louis said.

            “And free,” Harry said as the realization started to kick in. “For the first time, I feel like I have control over my life, Lou. Thank you.”

            “You do have control over your life, though I’m not sure any of that has to do with me.”

            “Well, thank you anyway.”

            “Anytime, love.”

            Louis kissed Harry’s lips once more before beginning to bandage the tattoo.

            “Someday, if you’d like, I want you to tattoo me as well.”

            “I don’t know how to tattoo and I’m a terrible artist, Lou.”

            “It won’t be anything big; just something to cover up Duke’s initials. Nothing you give me could possibly be as unfortunate as that.”

            “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

            Harry put his shirt back on, but left his pants unbuttoned.

            “Did you have anything else planned for tonight?” Louis asked as he began cleaning up.

            “A picnic and movie on the beach, maybe?” Harry suggested.

            “Romantic,” Louis said. “This has been the best first date ever, Haz. Thank you.”

            “No, Lou. Thank _you_ for being the best date ever, forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if there are one or two chapters left on this. I want to say two, but it just depends on how the next chapter plays out while I'm writing it. As always, thank you for your patience with me throughout this story.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!!! Can we all appreciate that it didn't take me a month to post? ;)

***Harry***

            If Harry thought he’d ever felt nervous before, it was nothing compared to the way he felt before meeting Louis’s mom. Of course, feeling much of anything was a newly discovered thing now that Harry no longer self-medicated or injured himself to make them go away. He had good reason to be nervous, though, he thought. He was sure, with the ways he’d hurt Louis in the past, that his mom knew all about his worst qualities. Louis had long ago forgiven Harry for the terrible way he’d treated him, but moms were fiercely protective of their children, at least most of them. Harry had never experienced that kind of protection from a parental figure, but given the way Louis had explained her rage after finding out that his biological parents had been abusing him, Harry had the feeling that Jay was the protective type.

            Louis told him he had nothing to worry about. He said that his mom knew he was happy now and that was all that mattered. It didn’t help Harry’s nerves much, and Louis told him his fears were stemming from suppressed guilt that he needed to let go. Harry told Louis he needed to become a psychologist. Louis replied that one day, he might.

            The couple was sitting on their couch in their rental home when the doorbell rang. Molly’s ears perked up curiously and Louis lifted her off his lap and into his arms as he went to go answer the door. Harry stood, unsure of what to do next, and merely stayed in the middle of the floor awkwardly, listening to his boyfriend greet his mom, sister, and soon-to-be brother-in-law. When he heard their voices getting closer, he realized he should do something besides stand there like a moron and instead pretended to be busy on his phone. Belatedly, he wondered if that made him appear rude, but if so, Louis’s mom gave him a warm smile anyway as Lottie said a casual,

            “Hey, Harry.”

            “Hey,” Harry said to the younger woman, and he smiled at Ricky’s polite head nod, but then went back to focusing on Louis’s mom as he slid his phone into his back pocket.

            “Harry, this is my mum,” Louis began. “Mum, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

            “I’ve heard about you for years now,” Jay said, and even though her tone was friendly, the words did nothing to ease Harry’s worry. Jay continued, “It’s about time we actually met.”

            “I’ve heard a lot about you too,” Harry said as the two shook hands. “You really changed Louis’s life for the better, and I think that’s amazing.”

            Jay was still grinning, though looked confused at his words.

            “I wouldn’t say ‘amazing.’ It’s what family does when they love each other.”

            “Not everyone has had that luxury, mum,” Lottie pointed out, and the woman became slightly more serious.

            “Yes, I know.”

            Looking back to Harry, she said,

            “If I’d known about you, I would have adopted you too.”

            Harry smiled while Louis widened his eyes.

            “That would make things really fucking awkward, now, wouldn’t it?” he asked rhetorically as he set a squirming Molly on the ground. Jay and Harry grinned at each other and Jay winked before looking around and smoothly changing the subject.

            “This place is really nice, boys.”

            Lottie piped in her agreement and Louis led the women away for a tour. Ricky hadn’t seen the place either, but he stayed behind. Both he and Harry looked at each other and simultaneously sighed.

            “I hope you’ve got beer, man. We’re both going to need it,” Ricky said.

            “Do you not get on with their mum?” Harry asked, lowering his voice. If Jay didn’t like Ricky, there was going to be no hope for him.

            “No, their mum is great,” Ricky was quick to assure. “It’s just that I’m getting married in two days!”

            Harry laughed and Ricky smiled, but his nerves were evident.

            “You and Lottie are perfect for each other, though,” Harry said. “It’s all going to be fine, mate.”

            “I know _we_ are,” Ricky said. “I just want the wedding to go perfectly for her.”

            “At the end of the day, you’ll be married, and I think that’s what she wants most of all.”

            Ricky smiled, but seemed unable to stop himself from asking,

            “Is that a no to the beer, then?”

            Harry shook his head while laughing.

            “Sorry. We don’t keep alcohol here. I’ll buy you one at the bachelor party tonight.”

            “That’s alright. You know, you and Louis have both changed so much, in a good way. It’s almost like you’re not even the same people.”

            “We’re the same people,” Harry said. “We just finally decided to move on to a new chapter in our life stories.”

            “We’re all proud of you; both of you.”

            “Thank you,” Harry said. He was happy to find that his first reaction to hearing those words was no longer to insist no one had anything to be proud of him for.

            Further conversation was interrupted when Molly stood from the spot by Harry’s feet where she had decided to rest, then ran to the backdoor and started whining. Obediently, Harry walked over to let her out and watched proudly as she sniffed around, trying to find a perfect place to do her business. He was proud of Molly and of Louis, who, in only a week, seemed to have broken her of her one-accident-a-day habit.

            If someone had told Harry back when he was a child in foster care, or a teenager losing his virginity in a bathroom stall to get his first boyfriend to stay with him, or a young adult kicked out to the streets the minute he turned eighteen, or when he was jumping from abusive relationship to abusive relationship…If someone had told him then that one day, he would be living in a house with a man he loved who would love him back, and they would have a puppy they called their baby, and that the only physical touch that occurred was safe and didn’t hurt, Harry wasn’t sure he would have truly believed them. But this was his life and he was thankful for any painful experience he’d had to endure to get him here. There would still be pain, he knew. Part of life was pain and, on top of that, he and Louis would always be mentally ill, but now he felt that he was strong enough to get through the bad days and fight his demons, and he knew he had enough strength to help Louis fight his as well.

***Louis***

            “This place is really nice, Lou,” Lottie said again as Louis reached the final room on their tour; his and Harry’s bedroom. She sounded sincere, even though the house she and Ricky owned was bigger, newer and much fancier.

            “Thanks,” he said, mentally slapping himself for even comparing the two of them. They’d both worked hard to get where they were, and when he saw the way his mom was smiling at her two children, he knew she was equally proud of them both.

            “Harry seems a lot more…normal,” Lottie commented next, and Louis laughed.

            “It’s amazing what proper nutrition and being clean from drugs will do for a person, eh?” Louis said.

            “And love,” Jay added, and Lottie groaned.

            “Mum, you just had to go there!”

            “Sorry! I can’t help but to be a little cheesy and emotional with your wedding so close!”

            Lottie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile. When she turned back to Louis, though, she looked a little nervous.

            “Speaking of the wedding, I need to ask you something,” she said.

            “Okay…what?” Louis asked, trying and failing to rationalize what her question may be.

            “You don’t have to look so scared! It’s nothing bad,” she said with a small laugh. Then, she proceeded with her question.

            “I was just wondering if…you would maybe walk me down the aisle?”

            “I thought you were walking yourself down the aisle?” Louis asked, already smiling at the mere fact that she’d asked him, but afraid she was going to take it back at any moment.

            “Yeah, but then I got to thinking…What if I trip on my way to the altar and there’s no one there to catch me or help me play it off? Besides, you’re my brother and the only positive male figure I had growing up. You taught me my worth and told me to wait until I found someone who respects and loves me unconditionally; someone like Ricky. Without you, I would’ve probably spent forever stuck on a fuck boy that only says he loves me when he’s begging me to come over at midnight and then makes me leave by three in the morning before his other girlfriend gets home from her job at the strip club.”

            “That was oddly specific,” Louis said.

            “Ricky hasn’t been my only boyfriend; just the only one you met.”

            “Where did my children get their impeccable taste in men?” Jay asked rhetorically.

            “Hey, Ricky’s a good guy,” Lottie defended. Louis added,

            “And Harry is too, even if you don’t believe me yet.”

            “Harry has a fresh, clean slate right now,” Jay told Louis, and to her daughter, said, “And yes, Ricky is a great guy.”

            “He is,” Louis agreed about his future brother-in-law. “And I would be honored to walk my amazing baby sister down the aisle.”

            Jay and Lottie were to stay at Louis and Harry’s house that night while the men went to Ricky’s bachelor party, which was going to include a night of bar hopping in downtown Los Angeles. Before leaving, Louis promised to keep Ricky out of trouble, to which Lottie replied that it was probably going to have to be the other way around.

            On the car a ride there, Louis expressed his worry that Molly would think they abandoned her, since they were staying at a hotel within walking distance of the bars overnight. Harry assured him that she wouldn’t think that but told him they could Face Time her that night if he wanted to.

            Louis had never met Ricky’s friends and was a bit nervous, seeing as how he’d probably received the reputation of ‘Lottie’s crazy brother’ back before the entire truth had come out. If that was the case, they didn’t show it, and even though he and Harry didn’t quite fit in with the straight guys who called each other ‘bro’ after nearly ever sentence, had secret bro handshakes, and competed in burping and flatulence contests, they were all nice and made them feel welcome.

            Still, Louis couldn’t refrain from sending Lottie a video of the other guys, minus Harry, yelling and cheering as they went around in a circle doing shots; a couple looking like they’d about had enough. Ricky was participating at first, but after a couple rounds, he took to laughing and waving at Louis’s phone instead.

            _Congratulations, you got the most mature of the bros,_ Louis told her. A few minutes later, once the video had gone through, she sent back the sideways crying-from-laughter emoji and said,

            _The cutest one, too._

 _Idk_ , Louis said, half teasingly. _Harry and I decided that in an alternate universe where we don’t know each other and the bros are gay, I’d be dating Jersey Number Seven and he’d be dating Swag Pants._

 _Be nice!_ Lottie replied, though the multiple laughing smileys she’d sent showed that she wasn’t upset with him.

            _We are! Those were meant as compliments. As you know, we have impeccable taste in men._

 _No comment,_ Lottie said, and then sent a picture of Molly sleeping on her lap. Louis saved it.

            Everyone survived the bachelor party and avoided any serious injury. Louis and Harry, who hadn’t gone past the point of ‘moderately tipsy,’ made sure to load the others up with water, food, and Aspirin, both before they went to bed and when they woke up, earning themselves a pat on the head from Swag Pants as well as the title of ‘most dope gays ever.’ By the time they were set to go to the rehearsal, they all looked human again.

            Though he wasn’t in the wedding, Harry was invited to the dinner. He tried to decline, saying that it should only be family and the wedding party, but when Lottie told him he already was family, he couldn’t find it in him to say no.

            The rehearsal went smoothly, which seemed to calm everybody’s nerves, and Lottie ran around hugging everyone-once right after the rehearsal and once during dinner-in a way that was almost manic.

            “Are we going to be that crazy if we get married one day?” Louis quietly asked Harry as his sister burst into laughter at something Swag Pants said and then immediately after started crying.

            “You’ve been married before, so I think you’ll keep your cool,” Harry said. “I, however, sometimes lose my mind under the most mundane of circumstances, so no promises here.”

            “My last wedding doesn’t count,” Louis insisted. “It wasn’t _my_ dream wedding, so I didn’t really give two shits if something went wrong.”

            “If we get married, we can have your dream wedding,” Harry said.

            “Nah. I’m over it,” Louis said, not mentioning that as long as Harry was his groom, it would be the perfect wedding, regardless. “You’re the fairytale-expert-slash-future-party-planner. I’ll help where I’m needed, but I’ll leave the rest up to you.”

            Harry gave him a look down the bridge of his nose, commenting, “I guess we will discuss that if the time comes.”

            “Yep. I suppose so.”

            Harry kept staring, unamused, at his boyfriend’s ornery smile, but it didn’t take long for him to crack with a laugh. He stole a sip of Louis’s wine, since his was gone.

            “Do you want another?” Louis asked.

            “Nope,” Harry replied simply,lacing the fingers of his right hand with Louis’s left and kissing the back of his hand before resting both on his own lap. Louis had to take a drink to wipe the too-wide grin from his face.

            Besides Louis’s pants fitting a little too snugly-Harry said it was due to the squats he was doing at the gym-his sister’s wedding went flawlessly. Maybe there were a couple times the minister stumbled over his words, and Ricky missed Lottie’s finger the first time he tried to slide her wedding band on, and Jersey Number Seven seemingly spaced out and missed his cue to start walking down the aisle after the couple once the union had ended, until Lottie’s maid of honor locked arms with him and pulled him away, but none of that mattered. Lottie and Ricky were happily married, healthy, and surrounded by all the people that loved them, so in their eyes, the day was perfect. Louis’s heart felt like it could burst for them, but also for the future he felt he had with Harry.

            During the ceremony, Jay had insisted Harry sit right up front with her, and there were a couple times when Louis saw his mom whisper something to his boyfriend, who then laughed silently and whispered something back, eliciting a smile from the woman.  

            After the ceremony, it was time for the photographer to take pictures. She took a few of just Jay, Lottie, and Louis, and then asked Louis if there was a wife or girlfriend around for a final couple of shots.

            “No,” Louis replied with a laugh. “No wife or girlfriend.”

            “He has a boyfriend, though,” Lottie said, and then called out to Harry, who was in the near distance talking to Hipster Beard, another of Ricky’s friends that they’d lovingly nicknamed. Louis hoped he wouldn’t have to remember their real names at any point that evening.

            Hearing his name, Harry looked over and then obediently walked their way as Lottie gestured for him.

            “Come in for a few pictures,” Lottie said when he was close enough to where she no longer had to shout, and Louis saw his boyfriend’s eyes widen.

            “I’m not a picture person,” Harry said.

            “I don’t care. It’s my wedding and you have to do what I say.”       

            Harry laughed, giving in easily with only a light-hearted, “Okay, Bridezilla.”

            Louis smiled at Harry as he stood next to him, putting the arm which wasn’t around his sister’s waist around his boyfriend.

            After those shots had been taken, Harry gave a sigh of relief, thinking he was done, but then Lottie insisted the photographer take a few of just Louis and Harry. Louis laughed at the look of pleading Harry gave him.

            “Smile, gorgeous. I love you,” Louis said, and Harry did.

            “I love you,” he replied, and placed a tender kiss on Louis’s forehead. At the time, they had no idea that the photographer captured that moment with her camera. They didn’t know that the next picture she took of them, with Louis wrapping both arms around Harry’s middle as he gazed up at Harry and Harry back down at Louis, would be the first picture taken in years that showed their true smiles.

            In the future, whenever they looked at that picture, they would be amazed by just how much they hadn’t known, like how Harry was only a couple months from booking his first party, which would come to be the first of hundreds (maybe thousands, but they lost count).

Back on the day of Lottie’s wedding, when their romantic relationship was still new, they didn’t know that Louis and Zayn would open a new, bigger, and more successful tattoo shop than the first. They had no way of knowing then that Louis would one day propose to Harry in the café of where they’d eaten breakfast on their first date, or that Louis would surprise Harry by taking him to the Eiffel Tower-the real one, not the one in Vegas-on their honeymoon. At that point in time, they never would have guessed that one day they would be welcoming twin boys using Louis’s sperm and Gemma’s egg so that the babies would have both husbands’ DNA.

            Of course, they knew none of that was in their future on the day they posed for their first couple photo, and they wouldn’t have wanted anyone to spoil the surprise.

        As their dreams came true one by one, new ones took their place, but never once did they feel they needed more. Years later, Harry and Louis still smiled at each other like they did in that photo, and what more could they have truly needed out of life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter originally had a different ending, but when I started writing the epilogue, it all seemed really rushed and chaotic...Plus I didn't really like the original ending, so I decided to tie everything up like this. I hope it was okay! Thank you for all of your patience! Now, for anyone who cares, I will add a few real-life updates since, as I'm sure you know by now, this was based on real people.
> 
> 'Louis', or Zach, is kicking depression's ass and has been told by his therapist that right now he's one of the biggest success stories he's seen in his career so far. Zach is planning on going to school next year either for psychology or to become a chef, but he's still a successful tattoo artist right now.
> 
> 'Harry,' or Tristen, is still clean from everything but alcohol, which he only drinks socially. He hasn't cut himself in almost three years and hasn't starved himself or purged in almost one year (before that he went a good 8 months and before THAT it had been a while as well.) Most importantly, he tells someone when he feels himself falling so he can get back on track. His party planning business is doing spectacularly! He and Zach are now homeowners. 
> 
> 'Zayn' is staying optimistic and taking things one day at a time.
> 
> 'Niall,' or RJ, and Nolan are married and expecting a baby girl named Kayleigh on Valentine's Day. 
> 
> Liam wasn't really based on one particular person so...moving on...
> 
> Dawson & Nash (the twins) were made from Zach and Tristen's twin sister. They were created a bit earlier than originally planned, but some health issues with the mom made it a kind of 'now or never' deal, and they were told at the time that having a baby may help her problems. The twins were born 15 weeks early but are now nine months old and catching up quickly on their milestones! Plus, they're super cute. (And Zach and Tristen are great dads, making sure not to let their individual problems affect how they parent!) (The mommy is also doing fine now!)
> 
> Molly is a very good girl, along with her doggie sister Jeanie and doggie brother Jaxon.
> 
> Aaaand 'Duke' stuck to his 'no contact' order until it recently expired and then only contacted them to apologize. He's been to rehab a couple of times to work on his issues, so even though that doesn't excuse him for his actions, I will give him credit where it is due for finally admitting he has problems and trying to get better. 
> 
> So, that's it! Thank you all again for your support and patience. It's been quite a chaotic few months, but things are good :)

**Author's Note:**

> I know there are probably many questions right now, but this is a prologue. Things will be answered and make more sense soon! This story means more to me than any of the others (and that's saying something), so I hope some of you enjoy this enough to stick around! (The chapters will get longer too.)


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